


Burnt Edges

by cadesama



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Humor, M/M, Multi, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2536406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadesama/pseuds/cadesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captured by the Separatists (again) and dosed with a drug (that's new), Anakin and Obi-Wan find themselves struggling with the overwhelming lust the drug provokes (that's really new).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not tagging it yet, but I'm planning on going to a threesome place with this. It's not going to be strictly Anakin/Obi-Wan.

A hand was heavy and warm on Anakin's cheek. He turned into the touch, mind fogged by sleep, grumbling to himself. He was cold, on the brink of waking, and another body settled alongside his, pressed to his back – strong and unyielding and comforting.

He felt a brief spark of confusion before sleep dragged him back under and he dreamed of Obi-Wan, indecent, wonderful dreams of emotion and impression that faded as quickly as they came.

When Anakin woke, it was a cold shock. He sat straight up, eyes sharp and mind alert as he put his back defensively to the wall. He remembered. A snarl curled his lips, eyes narrowing. Oh, yes, he remembered. Grievous and his cowardly tactics. He'd endangered an entire settlement of Dugs just to draw out the famous Kenobi and Skywalker, then waltzed away to let Ventress handle the battle herself.

And even she hadn't bothered to meet them honorably in combat, choosing instead to dose both of them with … something. Something that left a wretched hangover, Anakin thought with disgust. He restrained the urge to cradle his head in his hands.

"Well, at least we're together," he said into the darkness of their cell. Obi-Wan did not reply, though Anakin could sense his wakefulness. "How's Ahsoka?"

"She got away."

Obi-Wan's voice sounded tight, strained.

Anakin frowned into the darkness. He could just make out Obi-Wan's form along the furthest wall of their cell. Which wasn't far, really. Just enough to hide Obi-Wan and keep him out of reach.

"You saw what happened?"

Anakin didn't remember anything but Ventress laughing as she sprayed a fine mist of some kind of incapacitating agent directly into his face. He reached out in the Force and felt it hum around Obi-Wan, snapping back at him with violence that belied Obi-Wan's careful, distant posture. He sat up straighter in shock.

"I mean," he put in slowly. He moved his head to the side, as if following motion, but there was none from Obi-Wan. He had curled his arms around his knees, holding them fast to his chest – which Anakin could see was rising and falling rapidly. "I'm not mad. I don't blame you for saving her instead of me, Master. It was the right thing to do."

The sound Obi-Wan made could not rightly be described as a laugh.

"I'm glad you approve, Anakin."

Something was very wrong.

"Master, what did she do?"

Anakin probed again in the Force, more carefully this time. He did not follow his training bond back to Obi-Wan; instead he followed alongside its path, edging up to Obi-Wan to look in at him. And what he saw was a mess.

Obi-Wan's restraint be damned, Anakin was on his feet and then kneeling before his former Master in seconds. His hands reached out, but did not touch, held just nanometers from where Obi-Wan's own hands held his knees in a white knuckle grasp.

"What did she do?" Anakin asked again, voice harsh over the sound of Obi-Wan's ragged breathing. "Master, tell me!"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and they were a blaze of fury, bright even in the dim light that peeked in from the cell door. Anakin tried not to flinch.

"It seems that she drugged me."

"She drugged us both," Anakin argued. There was a snap in the Force telling him just how wrong he was. He'd been knocked out. He'd felt something – but it was clearly very different.

He swallowed deeply, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze almost unwillingly. It was disturbing, focused with intent in a way he'd never seen from his Master before, but compelling. It promised.

"Did she? Because I don't see you – I don't _feel_ you suffering like..." Obi-Wan choked off his next words.

"Suffering?" Anakin shifted closer. "Master, how are you suffering? What can I do?"

"Anakin, do not ask me that."

Because he was fully aware of what Anakin felt from him, his control barely leashing the violent need Ventress's drug had provoked. This close, Anakin could make out the tiny shivers coursing along Obi-Wan's body, the flush on his cheeks and the sweat beading along his brow.

"Master, she knows the Jedi," Anakin began softly. "She knows the things that can break us."

That awful sound again, unlike any laugh Anakin had ever heard, but breathless this time, broken off at the end with a groan as Obi-Wan closed his eyes, pressing his face to his knee.

Cautiously, Anakin traced his fingers over the back of Obi-Wan's hand, and even such a small thing provoked a response. Obi-Wan snapped his head back up, glaring viciously at Anakin even as he opened his hand up under Anakin's touch. He just barely held it still as Anakin traced the lines on his hand, the calluses left by decades of lightsaber practice. He trailed his fingers down to Obi-Wan's wrist, feeling his racing pulse.

"But it _won't_ break us, Master. We're better than that."

Obi-Wan gave a halting nod. His lips parted, eyes slightly glazed. Anakin wasn't sure he was even listening. But that was fine, better than fine, even. If Obi-Wan wasn't thinking anymore, he wasn't convincing himself that he needed to hurt to be a proper Jedi.

Anakin ran his hand up Obi-Wan's arm to his neck, curling it under the other man's jaw.

"It's the Jedi way," Anakin murmured. He leaned in, close enough to kiss. Obi-Wan's gaze followed him, all his emotions laid bare, burning in his eyes the way they did in the Force. "We have a mission to complete. This is another obstacle."

It was the permission Obi-Wan needed. He pushed forward, hands tugging on Anakin's tunics to draw him into a deep, rough kiss. His beard rasped uncomfortably against Anakin's skin, mouth opening against his as he pushed his tongue into Anakin's mouth.

Anakin groaned at the feeling.

Obi-Wan kissed him raggedly, biting, one hand moving up from Anakin's tunics, still balled into a fist and crushed against Anakin's cheek. Anakin didn't try to slow him down, knew how foolish that would be. Instead he readjusted his position, hands on Obi-Wan's hips pulling him closer. Obi-Wan cursed, slow, small movements giving way to a sudden, violent tackle as he threw himself down onto Anakin.

Anakin's head hit the deck and his vision went white. Obi-Wan's hand threaded through his hair, pulling hard as Obi-Wan dragged him into a kiss Anakin could barely focus on. And then Obi-Wan was gone, sliding down Anakin's body, parting his legs. Anakin blinked rapidly, feeling like he'd suddenly lost track of what was going on.

Anakin struggled to sit up, glad at least that his dizziness was passing, even as his confusion multiplied. There was a dark look on Obi-Wan's look when he caught the other man's eye. He was sitting back on his haunches, hand skimming along Anakin's belt. His fingers hooked into it, under the tunics, hot against Anakin's skin.

"Master?" Anakin's mouth had gone entirely dry. "I thought... we need to help you."

Obi-Wan looked briefly amused – caught in a moment between hard, barely restrained lust and what Anakin swore could not be a threat. Obi-Wan would never look at him so.

"You will," Obi-Wan said.

And his fingers went to work on Anakin's belt – helped by Anakin because whatever else, he was so hard it hurt and he wasn't going to say no at this point, not with Obi-Wan's hands on him and his breath so teasingly hot against his stomach, beard scratching skin as he kissed and licked his way down.

Anakin arched into him as Obi-Wan took him into his mouth, head cracking again against the deck and he was honestly going to give himself a concussion here. He was blearily aware of that as Obi-Wan pulled back, licking a long, wet stripe up Anakin's cock. He stopped for a moment, face against Anakin's thigh and Anakin clenched his fists against the deck, gulping down air.

"You can, uh, keep going. If it helps."

Obi-Wan responded with a hard bite to Anakin's hip, making him jump and yelp in shock, before ducking his head back down and swallowing around Anakin's dick. Anakin stared up at the ceiling as Obi-Wan sucked his length, trying to figure out what the actual kriff was happening here. Obi-Wan paused to suck on his own fingers and Anakin tried to repress his sound of protest. It didn't go so well.

"Do you want this to hurt, Padawan?"

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. He kinda did.

Obi-Wan gave a low chuckle, catching the gist of the thought, either in the Force or the twitch of Anakin's cock. His slick fingers pushed into Anakin's entrance and, apologetically, he kissed Anakin's flagging erection as he worked Anakin open. The intrusion was an odd feeling, fingers stretching him, pumping in and out. Anakin found himself moving against Obi-Wan's hand, a desperate sound caught in his throat. He didn't know what he wanted, but he wanted more of it.

"Good enough," Anakin panted.

He wasn't sure what to do, feeling raw and vulnerable in this position. He wanted Obi-Wan. Wanted to fuck him, but he had no idea what to do – and yet images were starting to bleed over from Obi-Wan, through his threadbare shields and forceful touches. The edges burnt by emotion, but when Anakin closed his eyes he thought he could already feel it happening.

"Do you want –" He stopped, licking his lips to start again. "Should I move?"

Anakin opened his eyes. Obi-Wan leaned back pulling roughly at his own clothes. He'd already pushed down his trousers and his cock was hard and straining, barely visible in the dim light of the cell. Anakin stared at it, feeling his cheeks flush.

"That would be –" Obi-Wan didn't finish the thought. He had already forgotten.

Anakin had the feeling he was beyond speaking.

Wordlessly, he turned over, getting onto his hands and knees. Obi-Wan covered his body with his own, cock already pushing into Anakin. He didn't stop until his hips were flush against Anakin's ass, length fully seated inside him.

Anakin frowned, forehead pressed down against his forearms. It wasn't bad or anything. It wasn't anything he'd ever been prepared for, anything he'd thought about deeply and – Obi-Wan started to move and he sucked in a breath, eyelids fluttering as Obi-Wan thrust back in, hitting just in the perfect spot to send a shudder of pleasure up Anakin's spine.

Obi-Wan muttered something unintelligible, hauling Anakin's hips back against him. His hands were bruising on Anakin's skin as he fucked hard into him, mouth grazing sharp bites across Anakin's back.

Anakin's arms trembled as he held himself up. He could make out the sound of his own panting against the unbelievable sounds Obi-Wan was making. He pushed up against Obi-Wan and then swore, reaching down to stroke himself as Obi-Wan thrust. It didn't take much and then he was coming, the rush of orgasm singing back across their bond to Obi-Wan and he felt Obi-Wan jerk, coming inside Anakin with harsh suddenness.

Obi-Wan slumped against his back. Anakin prodded at him in the Force, afraid he'd find the other man unresponsive, and he was surprised to be greeted by lethargic joy instead. Anakin tilted his head to the side, hiding a smile in his arms.

"Just shut up," Obi-Wan muttered into his neck.

"I didn't say anything," Anakin said, but the smugness snuck into his voice.

Obi-Wan disengaged from him and rolled onto the deck, one arm thrown over his face. Anakin decided that sacrifices sometimes had to made and stripped off one of his tunics, doing his damnedest to clean up, before pulling his trousers up. He took care of Obi-Wan as well, pleased with himself for the thought. He patted Obi-Wan's clothes down and then settled next to him on the deck. Obi-Wan didn't resist when Anakin picked up his arm and snuggled down underneath it.

"That was stickier than I expected," he told Obi-Wan conversationally.

"Really?" Obi-Wan's embarrassment was fading. That was definitely a good sign. Amusement crept into his voice as he continued dryly, "Do I want to know what your previous encounters have been like?"

"Not as sticky."

For him, personally, at least. Anakin suddenly worried that Padme disagreed. Of course, it hadn't been bad, so she presumably agreed on that front. She certainly never took issue with it and –

Anakin decided he was going to stop thinking about Padme. As long as Obi-Wan was pleasantly relaxed in his arms, it was just disconcerting and distracting.

"I cannot believe that worked," Obi-Wan added after a long moment.

Anakin hadn't been paying attention to his line of thought. He turned slightly, face pressed to Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"What worked?"

Obi-Wan passed his hand through Anakin's hair fondly.

"Sex," he said lightly. "I think the effect of the drug has largely worn off."

The drug. Anakin blinked. Right.

Obi-Wan stretched underneath him and then casually batted him away. He rolled to his feet, peering down at Anakin.

"You certainly look a mess."

Anakin glared back up at him. If anyone had _made_ him a mess, it wasn't Anakin. Obi-Wan was already blithely ignoring him, shields firmly back in place. He rubbed one finger over his upper lip, frowning at the locked cell door.

"I think it is high time we made our escape."

"Oh, I don't think that'll be difficult," Anakin replied.

He suddenly felt very much like smashing something, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Padme sighed into Anakin's kiss, hands curled against his chest. His lips moved slowly against hers, sleepily, with a curve to them that could only mean he was smiling. His hand came up to brush her sweaty, mussed hair from her cheek and her eyelids fluttered.

"I missed you," he murmured.

"Mm," she hummed back. She turned her head, pressing her cheek to his. "Missed you too."

Anakin shifted, his hand sliding down to the small of her back and then to her ass. The lassitude of orgasm was already fading from his kisses as they turned oddly urgent again. Padme let him press her onto her back once more, cracking her eyes open as he moved to cover her body with his.

She put her hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate having an athletic, highly vigorous husband. It was just … well, for one, she might need to step up her own exercise regimen in his absence. She did have meetings to attend later on and didn't need to be weathering sore muscles in addition to interminable speeches.

The other point was that she was starting to worry. Anakin was a little more eager than usual, even given the frustration that pent up for both of them during his long absences. It almost felt like he thought had something to prove.

"Ani?" she asked. She turned her head to the side, dodging his kiss so that it brushed her cheek. Anakin shrugged at her avoidance and turned his attention instead to her neck. Padme's breath hitched as he stroked his fingers down her throat, biting lightly above her collarbone. "Ani, what's going on?"

He pulled back to raise his eyebrows at her.

"I thought that was pretty obvious. But I could make it clearer," he said.

He pressed his half-hard cock to her thigh and Padme tried to ignore the heated throb between her legs. She bit her lip, eyes locked with his as she tried to wait him out.

"Ani," she said again, more firmly this time. The smile on his face flickered as she passed her hand over his head – tender from his last mission – and down to the yellow, healing bruises visible on his shoulders. "You're safe now. We're together. You don't have to... it's not going to be our last time. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." He sighed, biting his lip as a look of uncertainty came over him. Padme moved her fingers to the furrow in his brow, teasing and questioning both. Eventually, he asked, "Do you ever have thoughts about other people?"

His voice dropped to a hush on the final words and Padme couldn't help but laugh. She loved Anakin dearly, but he had the oddest sexual hang ups – and she could never quite tell where they were coming from. Some were certainly a product of his Jedi upbringing or, at least, his interpretation of the teachings. The more worrisome ones seemed to go back to Tatooine. However, this kind of hesitant yet endearing naivete was purely his own, as far as she could tell.

She hoped she was not about to shock him.

"Yes, Ani," she said gently. "It's normal. If you've noticed another woman – fantasized about her – I won't be angry with you."

He nodded, looking half relieved.

And then: "What if it wasn't a woman?"

Padme raised her eyebrows. That was certainly unexpected.

"It's entirely possible to be attracted to several genders and sexes. Across many species. Ani, is that what's got you upset? I don't doubt how you feel about me."

To make the point, Padme stroked her hand down his nicely defined abdominal muscles, brushing her fingertips against his erection. She most certainly did not doubt _that_ , whatever else went on in his head.

Anakin ducked his head, catching her mouth in a fervent kiss.

"I love you," he said against her lips.

She sank her fingers into his hair, kissing back happily for a long moment. They broke with a sigh. She ran her hands over his shoulders, pushing him to lay once more on his side and positioning his arm around her. She curled into the embrace, head on his shoulder.

"What brought this on?"

"Um," he said. He laughed, a short, uneasy sound. "It's kind of weird. This last mission – it didn't go so well."

"I heard. Ahsoka said you two got captured. Again," she teased.

Anakin's expression took on a dark edge, eyes set above Padme's head. He clenched his fist, thumping it down against the bed.

"Ventress," he spat out.

Padme craned her neck to look up at him more clearly.

"But you're alright?"

He nodded.

"We're fine. I'm fine. She did something – dosed us – well, Obi-Wan more – with some kind of drug. Guess she thought it'd be funny, trying to ruin our relationship, but Obi-Wan didn't even care. He strolled right off the ship, acting like nothing had even _happened_!"

Padme pressed her lips together. What she was getting out of Anakin's ramble was that something had indeed happened to upset him and she was a little wary to discover what.

"I suppose it's good," she said carefully, "that Ventress's plan did not work out."

"I mean, I _felt_ it! His shields were completely shot by the end there and I know it wasn't just the drug. He wanted me! And he definitely enjoyed it."

Padme sat up, looking down at her husband in surprise. His handsome features were pulled together in consternation, eyes glaring up at the ceiling. She cocked her head at him, eyebrows knit together as she tried to formulate a reaction. She opened her mouth and shut it twice. There were honestly no words.

"Enjoyed what?" she finally managed. She thought she knew, but she needed to hear it from him – both the admission and the assurance that he really was okay with whatever had happened.

Anakin blinked and refocused on her. A blush stained his cheeks.

"Fucking me?" he said hesitantly.

Padme caught her breath. That was not what she expected. It was certainly in the same vein, just a little reversed from what she'd imagined. Her eyes went to the marks on Anakin, the bruises and the bites. It was becoming easier to envision by the second. Obi-Wan stretched against Anakin's long, muscular body, kissing him with a desperation that hurt, fucking her husband until they were both spent. She shifted uncomfortably; she was already so tender, but damned if she didn't want to feel Anakin inside her again, telling her everything Obi-Wan had done with him.

Anakin misinterpreted the look on her face, for once shy of reading her emotions in the Force. He looked shamefaced, reaching up to stroke his hands soothingly down her sides.

"It was the drug, I swear. I _love_ you, Padme. It didn't mean anything."

She bit back a laugh. Propping her arm on his chest, she leaned over him. His eyes followed her movement anxiously.

"I thought you said it wasn't just the drug," she said. "That you both enjoyed it."

"I –"

Padme felt a tiny bit bad for toying with him, but on the other hand, he had just fucked his best friend – mission or no, drug or no – and then come to her to complain about Obi-Wan hurting his feelings over it. Much as she loved him, he did deserve some kind of comeuppance.

"You'll have to convince me," she said decisively. And she straddled him, throbbing and wet as she ground against his erection. Anakin arched his neck, eyes half closing as he bit his lip. "Now, tell me everything that happened."


	3. Chapter 3

Lightsabers snapped to life, hissing and sparking as they clashed in the training salle.

Obi-Wan paced around Anakin, taking in his measure. His partner seemed to have recovered well from the mishaps of their previous mission. The last few days had been a welcome respite on Coruscant – so welcome, in fact, that Obi-Wan had hardly seen Anakin in the Temple. He did not care to look, either, as part of their unspoken agreement on such matters.

The few times he'd run across Anakin, his partner had been in the company of Ahsoka, quick to tease them both about needing her to rescue them from Ventress's clutches. It was a good thing she took after Anakin in brash and somewhat callous jokes – rather than taking after Anakin's more annoying, prying side. While Anakin had assured Obi-Wan months ago that he'd had an age appropriate talk with his apprentice about the natural course of things and various interpretations of the Jedi Code with respect to exploring sexuality, well, Obi-Wan was not keen to explain his own interpretation, nor how he practiced it.

Not to Ahsoka and not with reference to her master. He didn't care what kind of prude Quinlan would undoubtedly call him, he never needed to know.

And to be entirely honest, he wasn't entirely sure he was keen to explain it to himself. It was better to simply let the matter go.

If Anakin would allow any such thing.

"Feverish?" Obi-Wan asked lightly. He stopped in his circuit around Anakin, waiting for him to turn to face him. He plucked at the thin undershirt Anakin wore, having stripped off his outer tunics, and raised his eyebrows.

Anakin affected an innocent expression and Obi-Wan's mouth twisted sourly – habit born of far, far too much experience.

"I thought you were planning on getting me worked up."

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. That was not the phrase.

"If you do not think your robes to be suitable for fighting," Obi-Wan said. "I suggest changing them. Perhaps a nice, homespun tunic. In white. Nerf-hide isn't terrible flexible."

Normally an attack on Anakin's ridiculous fashion choices would, at least, provoke a defensive response; in the training halls, usually that came in the form of a playful attack.

But it appeared something was very wrong with Anakin indeed. His innocent expression faded, sly smile on his lips.

"Never had that problem before," he said. "But then, _I'm_ very flexible."

Obi-Wan frowned and, almost without thinking, found himself igniting his lightsaber. It crashed against Anakin's, a hard blow that vibrated up his arm. Anakin braced his hand on his lightsaber hilt, grinning across their bright blades as he shoved Obi-Wan off before directing a slice toward Obi-Wan's head.

He parried easily, batting it aside. And breathed easier as they fell into the familiar rhythm of saber training. At least Anakin had shut up.

If only Anakin would wipe that ridiculous smirk off his face.

Anakin dropped his stance into Soresu, changing up from his usual powerful, aggressive strikes. He changed the angles, each blow becoming easier to push aside – but only just that. They were not jarring and Obi-Wan had an easy enough time parrying, but with each swipe, Anakin could step into his personal space, each deflection merely pushing his blade lightly aside rather than wrenching it away.

Well, two could play at that. Anakin was skilled in Soresu, that was surely true, but his heart belonged to Djem So and he would not be prepared for the acrobatic, fast striking attacks of Ataru. He would fall back into his favorite form for his defense as soon as he was thrown off balance.

Obi-Wan just... just had to actually throw him off balance. And stop being thrown off balance himself.

Anakin turned into his parry, blade sparking as it slide the length of Obi-Wan's. His hand brushed Obi-Wan's on his hilt and Anakin pressed his advantage. He turned off his own lightsaber and, when Obi-Wan stumbled, grabbed his right out of his hand.

Anakin flipped the saber hilt over his hand, smirking. He stood nearly on top of Obi-Wan, skin gleaming with sweat, thin shirt sticking to him.

Obi-Wan was quick to put more space between them. It did not go unnoticed, but for now Anakin kept his response under wraps: a quick flash of annoyance in the Force and a cocky slant to his head.

He held the lightsaber out, dangling between two fingers.

"Now, Obi-Wan, this weapon is your life."

"And your tactics are absurd. Try that in a duel against Count Dooku and he'll match sure you wear matching gloves from now on."

Anakin shrugged lightly. He pushed at his shirt where it stuck to his skin and then looked down in distaste. Rolling his eyes to himself he casually stripped out of the shirt.

"Any tactician knows to adapt to their adversary," he said as he cast it aside.

"Ah," was all Obi-Wan managed. 

His throat had suddenly gone dry. It was the sheer thoughtlessness of the act. For all of Anakin's overt and aggressive flirtation, it was that one act – the natural, confident stretch of his body as he undressed – that struck Obi-Wan. Anakin, his former Padawan, his partner, was rather attractive. When he thought on it.

Anakin frowned at him in surprise.

"What?"

"I – it's nothing." Obi-Wan stepped forward and clapped his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Showers?"

Anakin's smile was perhaps a little too eager.

The training hall showers clattered with sounds, men and women passing through in various states of undress. The wood panel flooring was wet with footprints, steam seeping from the wall to the showers and soaking pool. Tall wooden cabinets divided the space. Obi-Wan bent to remove his boots, pushing them into one of the cubbies as he retrieved a pair of slippers. Anakin followed suit, though he never had gotten into the habit of wearing any kind of shoe in the shower area. 

Anakin pressed up behind Obi-Wan, the heat of his body uncomfortable through the layers of Obi-Wan's tunic.

"Back row?" Anakin asked. His hand slid down to Obi-Wan's belt, thumb catching in it, before moving to palm his ass.

Obi-Wan's eyes flew wide. And somehow nodded. Did he nod? Why would he nod? He boggled at himself as Anakin sauntered toward the back row of cabinets, snagging the Force in Obi-Wan's tunic to urge him forward. Haltingly, Obi-Wan joined him, only to be pressed into the panels of the wall by a kiss.

Anakin was gentler than Obi-Wan expected; than his fuzzy memories of their actions on Ventress's ship. His left hand settled on Obi-Wan's neck, thumb brushing the hinge of his jaw as his fingers sank into Obi-Wan's hair. His lips were soft against Obi-Wan's, but neither testing nor teasing. Earnestly soft.

Obi-Wan groaned aloud at the thought and broke the kiss. He rested his forehead on Anakin's shoulder, panting as Anakin petted his hair.

He could feel Anakin's utter delight at the contact between them, at the arousal he could feel from Obi-Wan, amplified by the reciprocal, self-repeating loop of their Force bond.

Obi-Wan chuckled as he pulled back. He ran his hand through his hair, cocking his head at Anakin.

"Should I take this as a sign that you were, indeed, unharmed by our earlier misadventure?"

Anakin bit his lip, eyes dark.

"You could say that."

Obi-Wan felt that he should have anticipated this. Anakin was hardly one to let go of emotional entanglements – much as Obi-Wan frequently tried to counsel him on the matter. And as Obi-Wan remembered from their few discussions on the subject, Anakin in no way disconnected sex and emotion. It had been a relief to Obi-Wan that Anakin chose to spend his adolescence pining for Senator Amidala from afar, rather than experimenting with his fellow Padawans. Obi-Wan had the distinct feeling such dalliances would have only ended with him awkwardly attempting to console his heartbroken apprentice.

Which meant, however, that he was currently treading on dangerous ground. Their encounter under the influence of Ventress's drug was not something that Anakin was prepared to dismiss. 

Anakin pushed Obi-Wan's tunics aside, left hand warm against Obi-Wan's skin as he pulled him in for another kiss. He pressed his body to Obi-Wan's, erection a hard line against Obi-Wan's thigh.

This was foolish and terrible. He knew what it meant to Anakin, the inherent danger it held for their relationship.

Obi-Wan kissed back fiercely. He moved his leg between Anakin's, pressing against him and grinned at the gasp he elicited. He began to undo Anakin's belt, only for him to back away.

"No, wait," Anakin managed. His face was flushed, ridiculous hair falling into his eyes. "I want to try something."

And he dropped to his knees in front of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan arched his head back, shutting his eyes against the intensity of his own reaction. Anakin made an annoyed noise and smacked Obi-Wan's knee, waiting petulantly until Obi-Wan looked at him.

"Warn me next time," Obi-Wan said and Anakin's expression brightened. It took a moment for Obi-Wan to realize what he'd just said. He glared down at Anakin. "You know what I mean."

"I do," Anakin said. He sounded entirely too happy.

Obi-Wan grumbled, but it was difficult to protest too much with Anakin on his knees, sweaty and aroused, eyeing Obi-Wan's tented trousers with something between fascination and determination. And it was that moment where Obi-Wan decided that, as this was in fact happening, he might as well commit to it and not further embarrass himself. He doubted that there was a single Jedi in the training area, in not the Temple, who didn't know exactly what was happening in their quarter of the showers, but just in case, he put up an express disinvitation to all comers into the Force. 

It was hardly uncommon, he rationalized to himself. So many of the Jedi in lightsaber practice were young and fit and needed to work off the tension of a good fight.

Anakin stopped toying with Obi-Wan's belt, looking entirely self-satisfied as he fiddled with the fastenings of the glove covering his mechnohand. He quirked his eyebrows at Obi-Wan and raised it to his mouth, teeth pulling the glove to the rest of the way off.

It should not have been erotic. In fact, he looked silly more than anything doing it, nerf-hide glove hanging from his mouth. But it was just such a completely, irresistibly Anakin thing to do that Obi-Wan found it sexy beyond compare.

Obi-Wan laughed and then yelped as Anakin slid his cold, metal hand up Obi-Wan's skin where his tunic now hung loose. It was not entirely unpleasant, but Obi-Wan thought things could move in a more promising direction. Given where everyone was situated.

"You can get to it, you realize," Obi-Wan advised Anakin.

Anakin looked very briefly hesitant – and Obi-Wan fought off a sudden chill of guilt – before he worked Obi-Wan's belt open and pushed his trousers down, metal hand cupping Obi-Wan's ass, still cool for all that the contact with skin was warming it. Anakin looked at Obi-Wan's dick for a long moment before flashing a grin up at Obi-Wan.

"Nice," he said.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, response ready, up until the moment when Anakin just pushed forward, hot, wet mouth engulfing him. He scrabbled for purchase on the wall behind him, chest heaving and cock twitching at the feeling.

And then it was gone as Anakin gagged and pulled back, coughing and sputtering.

Obi-Wan panted and stared down at him. Anakin was redfaced, eyes watering. But there was an unholy glint in his eyes that made Obi-Wan shiver with anticipation.

"More than you could handle?" Obi-Wan couldn't help but ask.

Anakin actually squared his shoulders, glower on his face. Obi-Wan chuckled, patting him fondly on the cheek. Anakin batted his hand away in irritation. And, with careful deliberation this time, he grasped Obi-Wan's cock in his left hand, pumping up and down its length slowly before holding the based. He wrapped his lips around the head, looking directly up at Obi-Wan, daring him to make another joke.

Obi-Wan's breath hitched in his chest. Anakin swiped his tongue over the very tip, swirling it around before he, cautiously, took more of Obi-Wan's length into his mouth. At the same time, he pushed at Obi-Wan in the Force, questioning.

"Yes, that's – that's good," Obi-Wan said as he shied away from Anakin in the Force.

Anakin narrowed his eyes and sent back a memory – a quick impression, steeped in nothing but emotion – of a woman, doing for Anakin what he did for Obi-Wan now. And then, again, a question.

Obi-Wan pushed his fingers through Anakin's hair, palming the back of his head. He tried not to thrust into Anakin's mouth, barely holding onto his control as Anakin sent again, more forcefully, Anakin's memories of her mouth, the heat, her dark eyes and the words she whispered after he came.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan closed his eyes and he wasn't sure if it was to block Anakin out, or let his memories in. Anakin was a quick learner, taking Obi-Wan down and sucking. "Anakin, I –"

His hips jerked and he came, hands hard on Anakin's head as he held him in place. Sagging against the wall, he cracked his eyes open and, somewhat apologetically, removed his hands from Anakin.

Anakin swiped his hand across his mouth, annoyance a transparent mask for his self-impressed pleasure.

"Well?" he asked.

Obi-Wan threw his arm across his forehead, shaking his head.

"That was good, right?" Anakin pressed.

Obi-Wan dropped his arm and looked rather pointedly down at his softened dick. Anakin pulled a face and Obi-Wan sighed. He supposed something needed to be said – the thing that could be said.

"Yes, Anakin, that was quite good."

Anakin nodded and dusted his hands against his knees, rising easily to his feet.

"Good," he said. 

And he caught Obi-Wan in another kiss, tongue pushing aggressively into Obi-Wan's mouth. Obi-Wan tangled his fingers in Anakin's hair, happy to hold him close. He supposed, however, reciprocation was in order. He slid his hand down Anakin's neck, enjoying the shudder that provoked, and the sweaty line of his back, before moving it to cup Anakin's very prominent erection.

Anakin broke the kiss, eyelids fluttering .

"I – I'd very much like that, Master," he said. He licked his lips, exhaling unsteadily. "But are we ever going to –"

"Talk?" Obi-Wan finished for him.

Anakin's expression was so intent, so demanding that Obi-Wan had to look away.

"Most certainly not, Padawan," Obi-Wan said. 

He couldn't help the sternness in his voice, but he thought that stroking Anakin off did, at least, help to soothe the blow.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's a fair point," Bail said with a chuckle. He put his hand gently on Padme's shoulder, guiding her into the hall with the rest of the committee as her security moved to flank them. "But I doubt our 'friendly opposition' will see it the same way."

Ask Aak swiveled his eyestalks, unamused by Bail's commentary.

"It could be worse," Riyo Chuchi put in. There was a bright, mischievous smile on her face. "He could ask for it to be read line item!"

Padme laughed out loud.

"What a terrible thought!" she said, wiping at her eyes.

Ask Aak huffed and crossed his arms.

"It's no laughing matter – if we don't bring the point up on the floor, then the appropriations bill may not even be voted on until next year!"

Padme nodded, trying to suppress her smile. She reached out to place a hand on Senator Aak's arm, patting it to placate him, though she scarcely had the words to do so right now. He was being absurdly naive, even for their little coterie of idealists.

"Oh," Riyo said. She caught Padme's eye and twitched her head, charms on her headdress jangling as she indicating down the hall.

Oh indeed. It seemed Ani had decided to come for a visit today – and probably more than just that. Padme bit her lip as she watched him stride down the hall, cloak fanned out dramatically behind him. She was not, in general, opposed to office quickies. Sometimes they had no more than a few minutes to spare each other between her meetings and before he was redeployed for the war.

The thought made the brief, simple joy of her friends' laughter drop away from her. She'd hoped he would have more time on Coruscant after this recent mission, but there was never any way to know, not these days.

His expression was light and curious, however, when he reached them.

"You're a merry bunch today. Anything I should know about? Good news?"

"Oh, no, General," Padme said.

"Just a joke among us weary politicians," Bail put in. "How's the fighting on the front?"

"No worse than yesterday – and trust me, that's an accomplishment." He looked to Padme, eyes widening just a bit as he asked, "Joke?"

"A boring political joke," she assured him.

It did not, however, forestall his next words. He rubbed his gloved hand over his chin, as if contemplating.

"What did the Jedi Master say to the Sith Lord at the end of all things?" he asked. His eyes glittered with barely contained mirth as the committee members looked to each other. He waited a bit and then delivered the punch line, "Welcome!"

Riyo looked confused and Bail frowned.

"That's a bit... dark," Bail said.

"You must have it wrong," Ask Aak said. "Wouldn't the Sith Lord say that?"

"What? No. There is no true end to anything. It's a koan for learning to accept that the dichotomies of life and death and good and evil, are just illusions," Anakin explained defensively.

The Senators shared a look.

"Do Jedi really believe good and evil are illusions?" Bail asked. He looked faintly disturbed.

Anakin glared at him. They did, Padme was aware, but it was more complicated than that and Anakin wasn't the best theologian for explaining the nuances – as she had learned as he stumbled through an explanation to her for that exact question, years ago.

"A koan?" Riyo asked.

"A funny one."

Padme sighed and stepped forward, taking him by the arm. She was fond of Jedi humor, after a fashion. She could appreciate their somewhat odd perspective after years of being married to Anakin. But she still preferred it when he kept their terrible jokes inside the Temple.

"General, was there something you wished to talk to me about?"

Anakin straightened and pushed the disappointment off his face.

"Of course, Senator. I realize you are very busy. I wanted to thank you personally. For your advice."

Now Padme was puzzled.

"My advice?"

Anakin ducked his head to meet her eyes more directly. There was the hint of a smile on his lips – the secret kind they shared in their bedroom. He'd smiled at her that way this morning, light streaming in the window and turning his hair golden as he tumbled her underneath him, tangling in the sheets to kiss her.

"Regarding General Kenobi."

Padme's smile flickered and she forced it to stay on her face with all the skill of a born politician. She could hear murmuring behind her between Riyo and Bail – and she could swear it was followed by the clink of hard currency.

"Oh," she said evenly. "I'm glad that I could help."

Anakin was not insensitive to the change in her mood. He gamely tried to keep his tone cheerful.

"Perhaps you could help me with another problem?" he asked. Padme narrowed her eyes at him. "If you have the time?"

Padme turned to the committee members. For politicians, they did a remarkably poor job of hiding either their interest or the obvious betting. They parted, unfortunately, so she did not have the opportunity to shoulder through them. When her security made to follow her, Padme made a discreet hand gesture to them. She could hear Dorme sigh as she took up position outside Padme's office and dismissed the other guards.

"I'll catch up to you," Padme told Bail.

She stalked irritably into her office, glaring down at her desk and turned on her heel as soon as she heard the door slide closed behind Anakin. He shifted on his feet, as far from her as he could possibly be and still be within the room, looking both awkward and abashed.

"I thought you were okay with this," he said after a long moment.

"I –" Padme cut herself off, pressing her lips together. She sighed after a moment. "I thought I was."

"I'll stop," Anakin said. He took off his cloak and folded it across a chair, frowning down at it thoughtfully before looking back up at her to gauge her mood. Nodding to himself, he walked carefully to her, hands spread in appeal as he spoke, "I love you, Padme. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do. So I'll stop."

She smiled a bit ruefully.

"It's that easy. You're a Jedi, right? Jedi don't get attached."

Anakin nodded slowly, agreeing with the obvious lie. She would never have fallen in love with him if he was a proper Jedi, if he didn't feel everything so deeply.

When he reached her, he took her hands carefully in his own, waiting for a long moment before wrapping his arms around her. She sighed as he tucked his chin onto her head, resting her cheek on his chest. He was so warm and solid that it almost allayed the gnawing fear that he was slipping away from her.

Anakin physically flinched as he caught that thought.

"No – Padme, I would never. You won't lose me, I promise you."

Padme knew that, deep down. He'd loved her since he was a child -- the idea of him leaving her was actually absurd. And yet that was she'd never even considered that he might start an affair with another person, let alone Obi-Wan. It was an equally ridiculous proposition.

The feel of him brushing up against her, extending the Force to her again, was a calming affirmation and Padme relaxed into it as much as his arms.

She was as Force blind as they came, but with him, she felt it. The hum of his energy against her skin, the press of his mind. Alongside and entangled and everything she knew the Jedi were to each other; knew that they were never, ever allowed to be for anyone else. It wasn't just the vows he'd sworn on Naboo or the light in his eyes every time he looked at her – although if he never said another word, she would have both of those things and know their absolute truth – it was the way his thoughts followed hers in the Force, the way he wrapped her presence in his.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" Anakin whispered into her hair.

Padme opened her eyes, watching her own fingers as they skimmed over bantha-hide of his tabard. It was looking rather worn, but she knew he'd never let her replace it. That he couldn't.

"Just… tell me," Padme said. She raised her head, pulling out of the embrace to look at him. "We don't have a marriage if we're just sleeping with other people whenever we want to without considering each other. We have to talk about these things."

Anakin nodded.

"That's fair. I'll ask for permission first."

Padme's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't intended that, not exactly, but his eyes were so earnest when he looked to her, head ducked just a little as he waited hopefully for her approval that she couldn't find the words to protest.

"And in the meantime," Anakin said. He flashed a broad smile at her and bent down, lips hot on her neck, "I'll tell you about it."

Padme shivered happily, eyes slipping closed as she put aside that flash of jealousy. She didn't like that side of herself, the possessive side, although it had been the part of her rushing to marry Anakin in the first place. She'd been aware on Naboo that she could have had him at any time, told him to do anything she liked – he'd said as much – and cut then him loose. But she wanted more than that.

She wanted him to belong to her forever, forbidden as it was.

"I do, you know," he whispered into her skin.

Anakin drew back, and she opened her eyes to watch as he silently knelt before her. His fingers rucked her skirts, pulling up them inch by inch and Padme reached down to help. She flipped her skirt up behind her, over her desk, as she leaned against its edge, skirts bunched in her hands to give Anakin better access. Anakin smiled and pressed a kiss to her knee. His breath was warm on her skin and she could already feel herself getting wet.

Padme slid her fingers into Anakin's hair.

"What did you do?"

He kissed her inner thigh, long and wet, and inhaled, making a deep, pleased sound. He didn't look up at her again, instead hooking his fingers into her undergarment to pull it off. Remarkably thoughtful of him, Padme thought. He didn't always care about that kind of nicety; neither did she.

"This," he said.

Padme bit back a laugh. Not exactly this, she was sure.

Anakin hooked one of her legs over his shoulder as he held her hips in place, spreading her folds with his tongue as he kissed her. He swiped his tongue over her clit, drawing patterns that made Padme groan aloud. She brought up the hand still clutching her dress, muffling her sounds with the fabric.

He paused for breath, just long enough to mumble something into her skin, and then pushed into her with the Force. Padme jolted at the feeling, familiar heat snapping up her spine. She could feel his fingers in her, fucking her slowly, even as he held her. It was wonderfully disorienting and Anakin smiled against her, opening up even more in the Force.

Padme looked down at him dizzily. He was on his knees before her, before Obi-Wan, sucking the length of his dick as he flicked his tongue over her clit – and then it was her, in their bedroom, dark hair draped over him as she swallowed around him. She could feel him in her, confused and blurred, wrapped in each other, Anakin and Obi-Wan and his mouth on her dick, as Anakin projected back to her everything he'd felt and everything he'd done.

Padme clenched her hands on the edge of her desk, coming hard, shocked by the overwhelming suddenness of sensation.

Anakin stopped to extend a concerned feeling to her, the flood of images retreating momentarily. She shook as she stared down at him, chest heaving.

"That was quick," he said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, frowning up at her. "Are you okay?"

"I – yes. That was new," she said breathlessly.

Anakin grinned. He stood to kiss her and bent her back over the desk, hands light on her back as he held her with the Force. His hands were still under her skirt, gently touching her.

"You're so wet," he marveled.

"Because," she groaned and rolled her eyes at him, "you were licking me."

He gave a bemused hum at that – it certainly wasn't untrue – and kissed her hard. She moaned into the kiss, shifting closer to him as she panted. She wanted him inside her again, all the pieces of him, his mind and his body.

Padme fumbled to work his belt loose as he kissed her, as he projected the feeling of Obi-Wan's kiss, the scratch of his beard, the warmth of his breath and wry laughter in Anakin's ears as Anakin touched him. She made a triumphant sound as she finally got into Anakin's pants, fingernails scratching his stomach as she moved to grasp him. He was hard and straining in her hand, her palm so different from the calloused roughness from this morning, as Obi-Wan jerked him off.

She shuddered and pressed her forehead down onto his shoulder as he stroked soothingly up her back. It was almost too much to feel it all at once, how much he wanted her and what he had done, and her own frighteningly intense desire.

"I love you," he said into her hair and she nodded against him, clinging as he entered her.

Padme licked her lips as she struggled for control, pulling back enough to meet Anakin's eyes. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hands on the back on his neck, digging in with her nails. He exhaled sharply at the sensation, pleasure spiking, so she did it again, harder.

"Have you done this with him?" she asked.

Anakin's cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright. He bit his lip as he shook his head, shifting in against her to fuck her at a deeper angle.

"No – I – He fucked me," he said breathlessly.

"Good." She pulled him in for a biting kiss and said against his lips, "Don't."

He nodded jerkily, mouth working to kiss the side of her face clumsily as he sped up his rhythm. She held fast to him, eyes closed and head tilted back as she enjoyed the feeling of his hard length inside her and in her mind as Obi-Wan fucked into Anakin.

"You're mine," she said. Anakin swore and she scraped her nails down his neck, along his throat. "You can have him when I say you can, how I say you can. Because you're mine."

Anakin shuddered as he came inside her. He tugged at her in the Force and she soon followed, surging forward to kiss him again.

Padme was chilly when they separated, sweat drying in the cold recycled air of her office as they held each other. She felt unsteady as she slipped off the desk, excusing herself to her private fresher to put herself back together as best she could. When she returned, Anakin had tucked himself back away, and hair falling into his face to cover his expression as he righted his clothes. He looked cautiously to her and Padme felt a sudden pang of worry.

There was a thin line of blood on his neck and she crossed the office quickly, reaching up to touch him in shock.

He was a slave, she thought in horror. I love him and here I am telling him I own him.

"Ani," she started helplessly.

Anakin looked confused by her concern.

"I'm sorry," Padme blurted out. "I got carried away and –"

He swooped down to snare her in a heated kiss.

"I love it when you get carried away," he said. He looked down at her, happily relaxed. "You can do it more. A lot more."

Padme tilted her head to the side. Her fingers were still on his neck, smeared with his blood. She wasn't sure she could, actually. He turned into her touch, accepting it, even as she thought to shy away.

"Padme, you can hurt me whenever you want. I want you to. It feels..." He trailed off, struggling for the words before giving up, saying simply, "It's feels good knowing I'm yours."

Her gaze snapped up to his, expecting to find that teasing glint in his eyes. Instead, he was smiling – sweetly pleased expression at odds with his words, the blood on her fingertips. Padme stared up at him, breath coming short.

She could do anything to him, anything at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Anakin opened his eyes slowly, tugging on Ahsoka through the Force to guide her out of their meditation. The pleasant feeling of earthliness returned to him in stages: the warmth of the air, the feel of fabric beneath his fingers as he flexed his hand on his knee, the sound of Ahsoka's breathing exactly in tune with his own. The sun was setting and orange light spread through their apartment, shadows lengthening but not yet long, lights of the city glittering in the distance but not yet overtaking the sun itself.

It was a nice time. He'd always relished dusk on Tatooine, the end of a long day of work, the promise of a better day without the cold darkness that night brought or the disappointment rife in the break of dawn. He'd carried that with him to the Jedi Temple, to his missions and to the war.

"Your thoughts dwell on the past," Ahsoka intoned.

Anakin looked back at her, away from the glow of the city. He quirked his eyebrows and she broke her serious pose, covering her giggle with the back of her hand. He reached out to push at her shoulder.

"Not you, too, Snips. Besides, our pasts give us continuity, presence in the now and in the future. If we forget them, we forget ourselves and become nothingness."

She cocked her head to the side, only half joking.

"But isn't that the point?"

"Not on your life," Anakin said. He stood and extended a hand to her. She took it lightly, rising on her feet without actually using his offered help. "There's no point in the Force creating us all if we give up our individuality entirely."

"You're a heretic, you know."

Anakin gave her a half smile and a shrug. Of course he was, but not on this point. He actually had sound theological forbearers, thank you very much.

He linked his fingers behind he back, stretching out his muscles. He rolled his head to the side and back, thinking about their day. It been a long time since they were on Coruscant for more than a day or two at a time, longer still since he had enough time to actually spend with Padme and Ahsoka without feeling like he was doing disservice to one or the other. It was nice. For all that the war still raged beyond the walls of the Temple, he was enjoying the respite from it. He'd have to send Ventress a thank you note.

"So, Dex's for dinner?" he asked. He'd normally cook – since he could and all, unlike certain other Jedi he had been apprenticed to – but sharing their little vacation with friends sounded even better.

"Uh. Actually." Ahsoka scratched awkwardly at the back of her neck. She said in a rush, "I was going to go out with Barriss if that's okay."

Anakin fought off a pang of disappointment.

"Oh."

"It's just… we almost never see each other when we're not on a mission and I'd like to spend some time with her. You know, when it's not life or death."

That was actually exactly why Anakin wanted to spend time with her, his apprentice. He'd had whole years with Obi-Wan where he'd simply been in classes, never taking a mission more dire than escorting a diplomat back to their own planet, but he and Ahsoka didn't get to have that kind of relationship. They weren't allowed to simply live with each other, learning from each other and enjoying each other's company. But it wasn't unique to them, Anakin admitted. It was the war. He barely saw Obi-Wan in any other context now, either.

He sighed a touch ruefully.

"I understand."

She smiled brightly in response and Anakin felt a grin twitch at the corners of his mouth. He pointed sternly at her, suppressing that feeling.

"Just be back before the third watch."

A faint blush came onto Ahsoka's cheeks and Anakin gave her a narrow, sideways look.

"I was thinking, that is, we were planning – Is it okay if I spend the night with at her place?"

Anakin folded his arms across his chest. He suddenly had the feeling she wasn't talking about a friendly Padawan sleepover.

"What did Luminara say?"

Ahsoka winced.

"Luminara's on a solo mission to Ryloth," she said. Her blue eyes were wide and hopeful. "But she would approve if she were here!"

"Uh huh."

Ahsoka did not let his tone get her down. She lifted her chin defensively and tried to stare him down. Anakin decided immediately that confrontation was not going to work here. He didn't want to fight her on this, not really, but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned. He turned away from her, gesturing to the twin couches in the middle of the room, away from the mats they'd been meditating on. He sat and waiting for her grudgingly follow suit, pure obstinacy on her face as she hunched into the far side of the couch.

"Ahsoka, I'm not interested in stopping you from having friends," Anakin started, "or other relationships. But as your Master, it is my job to make sure that you aren't getting in too deep. I don't want to see you hurt."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. That was at least a positive development away from glaring.

"Barriss isn't going to hurt me!"

Anakin looked at her steadily.

"She's facing her trials soon, isn't she?"

He'd heard her name come up more than one, in discussions cut short as Anakin entered the room – a Knight wasn't really supposed to eavesdrop on Master gossip, but it was their fault for making it so easy – but he'd only spared a brief thought about what that meant for the war. They could use more qualified Knights on the front, but they kept pushing for younger and younger Padawans to be knighted. Anakin himself was barely a fluke anymore and he honestly didn't know how to feel about it. He'd already seen so many of the Padawans in his generation die, unprepared to the realities of war.

"Maybe," Ahsoka looked shifty, as if Anakin had not just nailed the reason for this. "There are rumors."

"It's why Luminara is off world. Barriss is preparing for them now," Anakin concluded.

Ahsoka heaved a long sigh and slouched, drawing her knees to her chest.

"It's just going to be different after she's knighted and we both know that everyone is weird about Knights and Padawans, especially right after. And she'll be getting her own solo missions, maybe even a Padawan!"

"So you wanted to make the most of the time you have. I get it, Snips. But you just said exactly why everyone is 'weird' about new Knights and Padawans. She will have very different responsibilities from yours and she will need to focus on them, just as you need to focus on your own studies. Fear for her is dangerous to your own growth as a Jedi."

It was common practice, in fact, to discourage friendships – let alone more – between the newly knighted and their formerly fellow Padawans. Typically, nothing more than a light admonishment was necessary. Solo missions carried the knights far from Coruscant and distance naturally developed as they embraced their new roles. Rapprochement after their friends were knighted was common and joyous, but the period in between was a tumultuous transition that Masters were very careful of. They didn't want to destabilize their Padawans more than necessary or make them feel pressured to take the trials before they were ready.

"What did you do, Master?" Ahsoka asked into her knees. She looked over her folded arms, expression quite miserable. "How did you handle losing your friends?"

Anakin wasn't sure that being honest would help since he hadn't had any to lose when he was knighted. He decided to ignore the question.

"Do you think you are going to lose Barriss?" he asked firmly.

"I – I don't know."

"Do you think you're going to lose me? Or Obi-Wan? Or Master Plo?"

She thought for a long moment, seeming to relax as she did.

"I don't know. Anything could happen during the war."

Anakin nodded once, satisfied. Their lives were uncertainty. It was the way of the Force and if she could accept that, then she'd be alright, through everything that got thrown at her. She had a head start on him, he knew that much.

"Then you can go. Just – just don't tell me about it, alright, Snips?"

He'd let go of Ahsoka at his own pace, Force willing, and didn't need any reminders of just how grown up she actually was.

Ahsoka was smart enough not to question his judgment, jumping up happily from the couch to immediately hit the 'fresher for a shower. Anakin leaned back, head tilted onto the cushion of the couch. He really hoped he hadn't just made a huge mistake.

"Master?" Ahsoka asked, drawing Anakin out of his worried contemplation. He did not spring up to hug her or forbid her to go, instead tilting his head against the back cushion of the couch to look at her. She pressed her hands to her legs, just above her knees and then bowed to him. "I trust in your judgment and I thank you. I won't do anything to let you down."

Anakin gave her a wry smile. She wouldn't do anything like falling in love. Because why would he want that for her?

"I know you, Snips. You won't do anything to let yourself down and that's what's important."

She was grinning when she straightened, flashing a happy, proud look over her shoulder as she left.

Anakin sighed and then immediately got to his feet. He thought he'd done right by her – as much as he could, as a Jedi – but he was aware that he wasn't exactly the best in the Order to go to for relationship advice. Before Padme had come back into his life, he's honestly figured on becoming a lifelong celibate because Jedi mores simply didn't make any sense to him.

But if the last few days had proven anything to him, it was that they made a lot of sense to Obi-Wan. Even in the face of temptation, even when it was the last thing Anakin wanted from him, Obi-Wan comported himself as a perfectly detached Jedi Master. He'd be able to tell him if Anakin was handling this right.

It was almost a shame about Padme's rules, he thought idly, though he'd already gotten a fair amount of mileage from them. He touched at the small mark she'd left on his throat. It didn't hurt and was healing quickly, but the reminder of her giving it to him, of her ownership, had left him feeling raw and desperate for her touch every time he saw it in the mirror. Already he'd had to take care of that issue multiple times, knowing that Padme was simply too busy, that his visits would only go unremarked upon for so long.

That he was forbidden from seeking relief with Obi-Wan only made his arousal more urgent when he thought of her, Padme's beautiful, dark eyes and hot clench around him.

He wondered if he'd be able to negotiate something with Padme on this. It was fair enough that she dictate when he was with Obi-Wan as long as he was on Coruscant, but perhaps he could have freer rein while on missions. It would certainly save a lot of sexual frustration during long deployments. Of course, since he definitely spent more time off planet than on, he could see how Padme might consider that unfair.

He pressed the mechanical fingers of his right hand down, breath coming faster as the feeling. He was honestly a bit surprised at himself. He was a healthy young man, of course, but this was still far more sexual activity than he was usually involved in and yet, oddly unsatisfying for all of that. He wanted more – from Padme and Obi-Wan, and both of them at once if he could swing it.

His eyes unfocused as he looked into the middle distance. He could sense both of them in the Force, connections with him deeper from these past days than ever before. He'd been slowly forging bonds with them in the Force – refining and strengthening his bond with Obi-Wan while opening himself to Padme, letting her in and pushing the Force back at her, trying to give her what he had.

It wasn't enough. Not yet.

Anakin dropped his hand from his neck. He was going to go see Obi-Wan and he didn't need to be riled up when he got there. He ran through one of the simpler meditation exercises of his childhood – a mental puzzlebox with many formations and hidden compartment. Each was meant to hold an idea, the Noble Truths of the Jedi.

To be honest, he'd always gotten more from the puzzle itself than the doctrine, but he tended not to tell anyone that.

Feeling considerably better and more centered, he waved his hand at the apartment environmentals, turning the lights off, and headed down the hall to Obi-Wan's. The Temple was vast and each Jedi valued their solitude. To the extent, apparently, that no other Jedi could truly tolerate living on the same floor as Anakin, more for the brightness and gravity of his Force presence, they'd assured him, than due to the noise of machinery that tended to emanate from his apartment.

It wasn't what he did, it was just who he was, he thought with a roll of his eyes, passing by the many empty doors between his quarters with Ahsoka and his old apartment with Obi-Wan. He'd never managed to move out and, to be honest, Anakin didn't want him to.

He came to a halt in front of Obi-Wan's door. The old Kenobi/Skywalker plaque had been replaced, though Anakin had made sure to etch the Open Circle symbol onto this new, solitary name plate. Just in case Obi-Wan got any ideas about Anakin going anywhere.

Anakin rocked on his heels, waiting for Obi-Wan to let him in. Obi-Wan was in there. Anakin could feel him thinking. He glared at the door. Obi-Wan didn't so much as budge.

He keyed the door open himself and strode into the apartment. Obi-Wan sat on his couch, ankle on one knee as he read through a datapad, expression serious and immersed.

"That was really inconsiderate," Anakin said, gesturing back to the door.

"Nearly as inconsiderate as interrupting a man in his own home, I daresay," Obi-Wan said. He did not look up from his datapad, but nodded toward the kitchen. "At least make me some tea."

Anakin grumbled but knew better than to return without a full pot. Obi-Wan's gave little prods in the Force as he brewed, as if Anakin had somehow forgotten, and Anakin batted his aside in amusement irritation as he worked. He leveled a glare at the back of Obi-Wan's head as he exited the small kitchen back into the living room, but Obi-Wan made no response.

He placed the pot carefully on the low table in front of the couch, pouring two small cups. He left his own on the table as he flopped back on the couch, knees apart and arm just coincidentally behind Obi-Wan's shoulders on the cushion. He leaned in closer, his side against Obi-Wan's, as he craning his neck to skim what Obi-Wan was reading as the other man sipped the mild, Tarine tea.

"Medical reports?" Anakin asked.

"My own, yes. The Healers are still working on yours."

Anakin pulled a face.

"As usual," he grumbled. His eyes flicked over the topmost line of the report. It seemed the Healers deemed Obi-Wan fit for a return to field duty – but if they didn't have Anakin's report yet, that left their deployment uncertain. He frowned as he looked to Obi-Wan, trying to feel out his reaction. "They wouldn't..."

"Anakin, I'm not sure they would have any choice."

"But if I'm not cleared, then you shouldn't be either!"

Especially since, as Anakin very clearly remembered, Obi-Wan had been the one with the debilitating response to Ventress's drug.

"I know you failed your Healing course." He was saying that to get Anakin's back up; it worked. Anakin hadn't failed. He just wasn't nearly as interested in Healing as basically anything else at the Temple and his marks had suffered as a result. "But you are aware that's not how it works, I hope."

"I am," Anakin bit out.

Jedi physiology and medicine was a very complex discipline because, for all the many species that Jedi were, their high midichlorian counts made each into unique ecosystems. Strong ecosystems, and hardly beyond generalization for the sake of expedient treatments, but nonetheless too complex for any Healer to understand them all in one lifetime. And worse, Anakin's extraordinary midichlorian count, with both its positive effects on his health and the complications it created for medical treatment, left the best Healers puzzled and curious rather than definitive for anything other than run of the mill treatment.

If they got it into their heads to finally try to take a crack at the Chosen One's mysterious midichlorian ecosystem – civilization by now, Anakin was sure – it could be weeks before they relented.

Obi-Wan put his tea back down on the table and cupped the back of Anakin's neck with his palm, thumb on his jaw urging him to look Obi-Wan in the eye.

"Anakin, calm yourself. I did manage to survive without you for some time, I'll have you know. And with any luck, I'll be able to steal your Padawan away. Force knows she won't learn anything moldering by your side in quarantine."

Anakin jolted. He'd almost forgotten himself in the warm, comforting presence of his Master. His welcome and new touch as distracting as anything else.

"Actually, Ahsoka is why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you about her."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. His fingers toyed idly with Anakin's hair at the nape of his neck and his lips parted at the sensation.

"I'm glad we can still do this, Master," Anakin blurted out, instead of explaining his concern. Obi-Wan stilled his hand, as if he'd barely been aware of the touch, and Anakin bit his lip, bringing up one hand to hold Obi-Wan's in place. "I'm glad I can still come to you, that nothing has really changed."

It was a half-truth, as ever, but if Obi-Wan had felt he would need to distance himself from Anakin, he truly would not have been able to bear it. This was better. Obi-Wan as his friend – a friend he could touch and kiss – and his Master, while Padme lingered between them, forcing the appropriate Jedi distance. It was a compromise Anakin could live with, he thought suddenly. He had enough of them both and even if he wanted more, that wasn't new. He always wanted more.

But he could live with this.

"I'm glad as well, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly. His eyes glittered as he smiled. "Now, tell me about Ahsoka."


	6. Chapter 6

Obi-Wan awoke to an arm slung over his chest and the warmth of another's breath against his neck. He looked to the far wall, where the early morning light slanted through his window, shadows striking lines across the array of earthen figures that decorated the alcove. Anakin nuzzled his face into Obi-Wan back, grumbling something as Obi-Wan's alertness necessarily rippled over to him the Force, gently urging him toward the same. Obi-Wan stilled the disturbance, kindly offering a sleep suggestion to Anakin, and he relaxed once more.

It was quite comfortable, Obi-Wan thought, pleasant to wake in Anakin's arms. He hardly thought it was a good idea to make a habit of it, but he was nonetheless prepared to enjoy the warm press of Anakin's bare chest, the way his legs entangled with his under the covers – still clothed, for the shock of it all.

Of course, in many ways, that made the state of affairs more troubling rather than less. For Anakin to simply sleep in his bed because he wished to, because Obi-Wan wanted him there, was more intimate than a hasty blow job in the showers and more deliberate than sex to counter the effects of a drug Obi-Wan had been dosed with against his will. It bespoke the many deeper, unnamed things in their relationship.

"Hey," Anakin said muzzily. 

He pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's back and then, apparently, decided to gnaw on his shoulder blade. Obi-Wan shivered at the sensation and turned to curtail it. Anakin smiled sleepily at him. There were creases on his face from the bedding and his hair was in an even worse state than usual. Obi-Wan reached out, trying to pat it down, but it sprang back immediately.

"Doesn't work," Anakin advised him.

"So I see."

Obi-Wan let his hand curve to touch Anakin's face, then trailing down his throat to his chest, palm flat to feel the beat of his heart. It was steady and strong, and he spent a long moment meditating on that feeling, watching the skin under his hand.

He'd spent much of his life, it seemed, fearing for Anakin. For his safety and his future, for his education as his Jedi and for the choices he made.

"But I'm still here," Anakin said. His blue eyes were clear, tracing the lines of Obi-Wan's face as he looked up at him. "And here with _you_."

"If this was all my doing, I hardly think we'd be here, in particular," Obi-Wan replied archly.

Anakin raised his eyebrows.

"Then, as my Master, I'd hope you'd take me in hand and teach me a lesson."

Obi-Wan swallowed back the sound in his throat. He certainly wasn't going to dignify that with a response.

Anakin took the opportunity push forward, catching Obi-Wan in a kiss. His mouth tasted stale and the movement of his tongue was lazy rather then deft, but Obi-Wan groaned as he wound his hands in Anakin's hair, kissing back with force.

For all his worry, he had to admit, things had turned out far better than he could have ever foreseen.

Anakin shifted against him, pressing him down flat to the bed. He broke from the kiss to nuzzle the side of Obi-Wan face, whispering words Obi-Wan pretended not to hear, before righting himself. He straightened with a long, languid stretch, hair catching the morning light, eyes lidded but sleepily pleased as he peered down at Obi-Wan. 

"You look –" Obi-Wan cut off the word. It was too silly to say.

Anakin's chest moved as he laughed.

"You too. You look a lot."

Obi-Wan huffed in annoyance but Anakin apparently decided that straddling was just not quite entertaining enough for him because, much as he was struck with morning lassitude, he was certainly still Anakin. He slid down Obi-Wan's body, kissing at the edge of his sleep pants before nosing Obi-Wan's very aware cock.

Anakin had many terrible habits, Obi-Wan knew. Yet this was not one he was going to discourage, if Anakin were to incorporate it into his life.

Anakin untied the drawstring and began inching his pants down, peppering Obi-Wan's stomach with kisses as he worked. Obi-Wan lifted his hips up to help, kicking his pants off with no small amount of enjoyment. Anakin chuckled and turned his head to the side to kiss Obi-Wan's dick and then licked a long stripe up it, making Obi-Wan shudder.

And then he stopped and sat back on his haunches, a decidedly conflicted look on his face.

Obi-Wan raised himself up on his elbows. He gestured with one hand toward the epicenter of his immediate attention.

"I'm getting somewhat chilly."

"I know." Anakin bit his lip and shook his head, eyes full of remorse when he looked to Obi-Wan. "But I can't."

Obi-Wan gave him a good grope with the Force and Anakin glowered. He certainly could and the physical evidence was right there, in Obi-Wan's psychic grip.

"You were less hesitant before, when you have no experience at all." 

Which was moderately concerning. Obi-Wan frowned at Anakin, reaching out carefully in the Force to get a measure of his former Padawan's mental state. He'd radiated nothing but warm happiness since he awoken and little of that had changed. His upset was quite minor and had no depth to it.

"I know. But I can't, I'm sorry." Anakin's expression lit suddenly. "I have an idea though. What if I don't bring you off?"

"Anakin, that is a terrible idea."

"What if you do it? I'll get you started." He dipped his head down, kissing at the tip of Obi-Wan's suddenly very hard dick. He gave it a considering look before enveloping it, sucking hard with his eyelids fluttering, and then pulled off. He was slightly breathless as he continued, "And then you finish. On me."

Obi-Wan stared at him, speechless.

Which Anakin took as a yes, immediately reaching up to stroke Obi-Wan before once more wrapping his mouth around him. He felt along their bond in the Force, for once merely seeking rather than sending, keeping track of how close Obi-Wan was.

And he was getting closer by the movement, breath hitching at he felt Anakin's care and calculation – the strange caution all that much sexier for how it was entirely contrary to Anakin's character. He was doing this for a reason, Obi-Wan thought. He threw his head back onto the bed and Anakin swirled his tongue, avoiding that searching gaze and looking instead to the ceiling as Anakin sucked him.

Not a reason. A person.

He was pressing it awfully far. Obi-Wan clutched his hand convulsively on Anakin's shoulder, unsure if he was trying to push him off or hold him closer.

But he gave a warning, "Anakin, I'm –"

And Anakin pulled back, rubbing circles in his thighs, extending calm to give Obi-Wan just a moment more.

Fiercely, Obi-Wan tackled him, nearly pitching them both over the end of the bed. They resettled crosswise, Anakin under him, eyes wide and mouth reddened as he watched Obi-Wan stroke himself. He was so slick, so hard, all from Anakin's efforts on behalf of _someone else_.

Obi-Wan chose not to describe the sound he made when he came, semen spattering white across Anakin's chest. There was a smear on the edge of his jaw and Obi-Wan lunged for it hungrily, licking it off and sucking hard at the skin under his mouth. He recalled the mottled bruising left on Anakin after Ventress captured them, satisfying and beautiful, but unfortunately hidden by Anakin's clothes. There would be no such problem this time.

"I guess you liked that," Anakin panted out. He tilted his hips up, pressing his sticky sleep pants to Obi-Wan's bare skin. "Me too."

"I will admit your ideas are, perhaps, sometimes worth indulging."

Anakin grinned and leaned up, kissing the hinge of Obi-Wan's jaw and then scrapping his cheek past Obi-Wan's beard to kiss his mouth, rough and happy.

"Yeah, I love you too," he mumbled.

Obi-Wan stopped, chilled by the words. 

Anakin still kissed him, still pushed them together, arms around Obi-Wan, presence in the Force open and inviting. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and turned out of the kiss. He had known this could be a problem, but deluded himself into thinking otherwise – that Anakin's clear involvement with Senator Amidala made this better, not worse, that he could hardly be attached to both of them. That he would not provoke similar possessiveness in Obi-Wan.

He put his hands on Anakin's chest, flexing his fingers once for a last, enjoyable touch, and then pushed him away.

"Anakin," he said softly. He did not open his eyes, steadying himself in the Force as he closed his mind. "This has to stop."

The surprise on Anakin's face had only one brief moment – yet it was so glaring and painful that Obi-Wan nearly flinched away from him. He did not permit himself that cowardice, looking back at Anakin steadily as his expression shuttered, his shields tightened. The Force popped with the change, as violent as a sudden drop to the ground from orbit, but entirely within Obi-Wan's mind.

"Because I said it?" Anakin snapped. His jaw was tight, lips curled in anger. His eyes were bright, however. 

"Because we are Jedi," Obi-Wan reminded him. He exhaled heavily, bringing his hand to his brow. "And because this has already gone too far. I will not risk you for mere pleasure, Anakin."

"How does it change anything? You knew – you already knew. I have always loved you!"

Obi-Wan shook his head. Aside from how that was hardly true, it would be even more disturbing if it were.

"You have not," he said brusquely. This would get out of hand very quickly if he indulged Anakin. He snagged the edge of the sheets and tossed them to Anakin who angrily scrubbed his chest clean, glower on his face. Obi-Wan slid from the bed and looked for his discarded pants, slipping them back on before leveling a mild look back to Anakin. "As I recall, you once said I was like a father to you. Plainly your feelings have changed. It is time for them to change back."

Anakin gave an incredulous laugh.

"And you think I can just do that?"

It didn't matter what Obi-Wan thought and he would not let his own doubts poison Anakin's future. He shook his head to himself, trying to let go his own guilt on that matter. He'd known it was foolish risk to indulge his desires with Anakin, and yet he'd let himself fall as hard as Anakin, giving in to the affection and admiration he'd held for his former Padawan for some time. He was as much at fault, if not moreso, and he ached to think of tomorrow – when he would not kiss Anakin and would not touch him and certainly would not tell him what he felt.

But Anakin wouldn't survive this kind of attachment. He knew his Padawan too well. He craved love so much that he'd let it consume him and Obi-Wan refused to be the architect of his downfall.

He turned to leave without another word, for all that they were in his apartment, but Anakin scrambled off the bed and put himself between Obi-Wan and the door.

"You think you can do that?" Anakin asked. "Just walk away from everything we are to each other?"

"If I need to, yes. Shall I ask the Council to split the Open Circle fleet permanently?"

Anakin looked like the wind had been knocked from him. His sunkissed complexion went pale, anger replaced by horror. He pressed his lips into a thin, white line. Obi-Wan brushed past him with ease. 

"The only reason you would do that is because you feel the same way," Anakin said to his back.

He'd thought that much was obvious.


	7. Chapter 7

"He is saying he would like to renegotiate," Chancellor Palpatine said. He had a look of grandfatherly disapproval on his face – that certain kind of sadness and resignation that is seemed the war provoked in him more and more. "I fear we may well lose the Dugs and, indeed, all of Malastare if we do not speak with him directly."

"More is at stake than merely their good will," Mace Windu put in.

Padme hung back from the officials who milled at the Chancellor's desk, sitting on the sofa in the lower area of the Chancellor's office. She laced her hands around her datapad, looking away from the Chancellor as she read the dire situation report and plea from Nahka Urus. If one listened to Palpatine, it sounded like Urus was acting merely out of avarice and craven fear, rather than legitimate concern for his people.

"Indeed, we need their fuel for our ships. If the Separatists realize we need new sources, they will strengthen their blockades and I fear the war will become little more than a waiting game."

The idea of the war stalling out into one of attrition rather than front line battles didn't sound entirely bad to Padme. She sighed at the thought. But for the dozens of worlds already under Separatist control, unwilling and in dire need of aid if not outright liberation. More would fall if the Separatist had any advantage to press and, though she willingly gave the Confederate Senate the benefit of the doubt for the pursuit of peace, as rulers, they left much to be desired for the occupied worlds.

"I don't think his demands are unreasonable," Padme said. She skimmed her finger down the list. "Medical aid and food, technology to automate the fuel extraction process – those all benefit the Republic as well as Malastare."

"He is asking for far more than that, my dear. As a member of the Republic..."

"The Chancellor is right," Master Windu said. He folded his arms over his chest. "They are pressing their own advantage on the Senate, placing their needs above those of many other equally needy member worlds."

Padme believed in fairness, but she also believed in compassion and expediency.

"We can make this happen," she said, "and end the war a day sooner. Isn't that a day those other world's will need the aid less?"

The Chancellor smiled.

"I have always appreciated your perspective, Padme. It is both refreshing in its kindness and intelligence. Very well, you shall go to Malastare along with Generals Skywalker and Kenobi."

Padme startled.

"An – Anakin?" she asked, forcing herself to use his full name. She blinked at Palpatine, trying to think of any reason she could protest this arrangement. Mentioning that it was the most awkward thing she could think of to travel officially with her husband and his lover was, she thought, off limits and too on point at the same time. "Do you really think the mission is so dangerous? I will be within Republic space. I hardly need an escort of that caliber."

"It is vital that Urus not renege on the treaty and it was Skywalker who first negotiated it," Windu said. He frowned thoughtfully. "However, I suppose Kenobi would not be needed."

"Oh, I quite disagree," the Chancellor said. He walked to where Padme sat, his coterie of aides trailing him. He placed his hands on Padme's shoulders, smiling down at her. "I think we need a show of force as well as diplomacy. The war effort is going well enough for the moment that we can spare two Jedi, but the reminder of precisely who these two Jedi are may be enough to, ah, help along the proceedings."

Padme cursed internally as she nodded.

"I see your point."

"Then it is settled. Are the Generals quite recovered from their last adventure?" Palpatine asked. There was a sly smile on his face for the briefest of moments and Padme almost thought he knew. But it was gone before the thought fully formed, replaced by an eager, bright smile. He was fond of both Obi-Wan and Anakin and did love hearing about their missions, from Anakin or second hand from Padme.

"Obi-Wan was cleared by the Healers days ago. Skywalker –" Mace knit his brows together, "I will have to ask they expedite the tests."

Padme frowned. Anakin hadn't mentioned anything about needing further tests, or that he may still be affected by Ventress's drug. In fact, from everything he'd said, it sounded like he'd never been affected at all. That was just like him, she thought angrily. He always downplayed any injury of his own, refusing to talk his fears. And of all things. His relationship with Obi-Wan was undergoing a massive seachange – one that affected her marriage with Anakin! – and it somehow slipped his mind to mention that it was just drug induced.

She sat there fuming, only coming back to herself when Palpatine laid a hand once more on her shoulder. The chamber had cleared entirely. She flushed, bowing her head apologetically to the Chancellor.

"Are you quite alright, my dear?"

"I – I'm fine, thank you. I was merely distracted. I haven't been sleeping well," she fumbled to make an excuse, skirts bunching in her hands as she hurriedly stood. The Chancellor watched in bemusement as she backed to the door. "I will be fine, I'm sure. I should just—"

Padme was grateful for Palpatine's many years mentoring her, because she knew it meant he would not question why, precisely, she simply turned and walked out the door.

She was a full half way back to her own office before she was able to slow, eyes up from the floor and shoulders back. She uncurled her fingers, dropping her skirts as she took a more measured pace, smile thin lipped and bland as she met the eyes of curious dignitaries and aides. She did not sight any of her political rivals, nor anyone in her own party, for which she was grateful.

Behind her own desk, Padme let her head drop into her hands, eyes squeezed shut. This was absurd. She was acting like a child. She was fine with Anakin's relationship with Obi-Wan, she told herself, absolutely fine. She was a civilized adult from a highly enlightened society and, besides, she had already explicitly laid out the rules for Anakin.

It was just that he wasn't the best at following orders, at the best of times, and –

Padme broke off the thought. She'd talk to him before the mission, it was as simple at that.

Her comm buzzed, startling her from her thoughts. She jerked upright, eyes darting to the side before she depressed the button on her desk.

"Yes, Dorme?"

"My lady, it appears there is a Jedi here to see you."

Padme smiled. It'd been days since she'd seen Anakin.

"Let him in."

Honestly, she thought. Dorme should have known by now that, barring serious negotiations, Anakin was always permitted to see her.

The smile slipped from her face as the office doors slid open. Padme suppressed a grimace as she stood, inclining her head respectfully to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Master Kenobi. This is a surprise," she said. 

She looked to Dorme, entering beside Obi-Wan, gaze narrowed. Dorme looked merely puzzled in response, eyes widening as she realized that she'd made a mistake.

"I certainly expect so. And yet, not an unpleasant one, I hope?"

Padme didn't bother to respond to that.

"Dorme, you may go. I think the General and I will need some privacy."

Dorme gave her a deep, apologetic bow, as she caught Padme's tone, and then back smoothly through the door. It gave a hydraulic hiss as it shut, leaving Obi-Wan and Padme to silently size each other up from across the office.

He could not possibly be there about the mission, which left only one real possibility.

Padme gestured for him to sit and, thankfully, he did, crossing his legs with one ankle resting on his knee. He leaned back, looking as comfortable and at ease in her office as he would in the Temple itself. She almost thought to offer him tea – if this had the trappings of a negotiations, at least it cut to the honesty of what they were doing, even if their words would not.

But maybe she was mischaracterizing Obi-Wan, for the very next thing he said was, "I'm here to speak to you about Anakin."

Padme raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh?"

He nodded.

"I should like for you to stop seeing him."

Padme's blood ran cold and she did not bother to fake a smile as she settled back in her own chair, slightly raised of course, behind her desk.

"No," she told him calmly.

"It is not a matter of jealousy, my lady." His eyes crinkled as he offered her a smile, toothy for all that it was incredibly condescending. "I am simply looking out for the best interests of my Padawan."

Padme tapped a fingernail against her desk.

"I see. You should know I care a great deal about his well being as well. I have heard you both went through an ordeal recently," she said, eyes flicking over him as she tried to read his response. "Is that your concern?"

"It is related," he admitted.

Which hardly did anything to dispute the implicit accusation of jealousy.

"Master Jedi, if I may, we are both well aware of the situation we are in. We have both become involved with Anakin and while I'm perfectly willing to permit his affair with you," she lied, "I do so with the express requirement that it not interfere with my relationship with him. Surely you can extend me the same courtesy."

"I would, but for the fact that I have ended it with him."

Padme blinked rapidly, fighting off a smile. Oh, but that couldn't have been pleasant for Anakin to hear. Perhaps that's why he hadn't been by to see her, she thought, ache suddenly twisting in her chest. All of the unkind joy she'd felt at Obi-Wan's words fled her. Ani was probably still too upset to even come see her and she hated that thought. That he'd rather be alone than come to her for comfort.

"Then why –" 

"As I said, for his sake. My lady, you do not know the temptations Jedi face, the dangerous path you are leading him down." He shook his head, self-reproach apparent. "I am as guilty as you are, I admit to that. But Anakin simply is not a man who can handle this kind of emotional entanglement. He is already deeply attached to each of us, in friendship if nothing more, and we are endangering his very spiritual well being with our selfishness.

"I am determined to let him go, Padme. I beg of you to do the same."

Padme lowered her eyes as he spoke. She knew of the Dark Side, the cycle of evils. The Naboo teachings were very different from the Jedi, but they came from the same place and, in her time as Queen and during the war, she'd seen enough of Sith to understand the very real harm of the Dark Side. But it just _wasn't_ Anakin. For all that darkness was supposedly passion, it was unimaginable that his love could ever be twisted that way.

"You're asking me to hurt him," Padme said quietly. "For something I don't believe in."

"Padme. The Dark Side is very real!"

Padme looked up at him, jaw set.

"And so is love. I have never agreed with the Jedi philosophy about love. I don't think anyone does, outside your cloistered little Temple. It's not how anyone else lives – it's not how anyone _should_ live."

She was very aware that she was treading on dangerous ground, all but admitting to being in love with Anakin. Obi-Wan nearly had himself, though he pretended his self-abnegation somehow mitigated that.

It felt good, in its own way, to finally begin to come clean.

"Jedi are not permitted many of the things you may believe to be necessary," Obi-Wan said. His voice was gentle, though not kind, as he continued, gesturing to the items of her office, "We do not have possessions, we do not move freely through the galaxy whenever we wish, we do not have the bonds of family, and we do not love. It is the way of our Order."

Padme could think of several examples offhand to contradict his every point, but did not speak of any of them. Instead she simply waited for her temper to cool, glaring across her desk to Obi-Wan. And when it did not, when she simply felt a clear, bright anger as sharp as any she'd ever felt when fighting for her people, that was when she chose her words.

"What am I hearing, Master Jedi, is that you have violated your own code. You fell in love with my husband and now you are asking that I leave him as well to soothe your guilty conscience," Padme said with precision. The word almost caught in her throat, forbidden as it was. She'd barely even said it to Anakin, except on the day they'd married, again and again in their bed because she'd already known she might never have another chance. "My answer will not change. _No_."

She stood and gestured to the door.

"Dorme will see you out. And Obi-Wan, I'll understand if you choose to go to the Council with this. But I think we both know Anakin won't."


	8. Chapter 8

"So," Anakin said brightly. "What's new with you? Catch me up. Tell me _everything_."

Ahsoka's face pinched into an aggrieved expression and she crossed her arms; it was all that much funnier in miniature on the holocomm.

"Master, you talked to me an hour ago. You haven't even been in hyperspace twenty minutes!"

"Much can change even in so short a time. The currents of the Force flow rapidly and –"

She held up a hand and he broke off.

"I get it, Master. Honestly, I thought you'd be happy about this mission."

Anakin grimaced and swiveled in the pilot's chair, leaning to see into the common area of the Naboo yacht where Padme and Obi-Wan were studiously ignoring each other. On any of the larger Naboo starships, of course, this wouldn't even be an issue. Padme would retreat to her state room while Obi-Wan either meditated in his quarters or banged around below decks _touching things_ until Anakin went down to stop him from accidentally disabling their shields or who knows what.

Not that, actually, Anakin had a reference for this situation. He'd never expected to be here with the people he loved most in the galaxy, ready to tear his hair out and set them both on fire in frustration.

If Chancellor Palpatine hadn't spoken with him personally about the importance of this mission, he wouldn't even be here. And that wasn't merely his own recalcitrance speaking. The Temple Healers still hadn't cleared him, having decided instead to fixate on exactly how his midichlorians interacted with his metabolism for, apparently, the sheer joy of prodding Anakin with needles. He hadn't spent this much time under Healer scrutiny since Geonosis and then, at least, what the Healers could do for him had been pretty straight-forward. He'd had five blood draws in the last week, two the day before alone. He almost could have felt concerned – if not for the fact that he'd caught more than one excited expression on their faces, in between all their furrowed brows and tsk'ing. Vokara Che had covered it as quickly as she could, but Anakin had seen enough to be able to barter a nice, clean negative result out of her, with the promise of future tests after the mission, of course.

The things I do for the Republic, Anakin thought with a sigh. But the Chancellor made a compelling case. Without Malastare's consistent supply of starship fuel, the war effort would stall out entirely and Anakin didn't even want to imagine what that would mean for his men or those trapped behind enemy lines.

"Well, that was before," Anakin grumbled.

And, in a truly horrifying twist, Ahsoka appeared to know exactly what he meant. Anakin was aware that gossip traveled quickly in the Temple, especially about him, but he'd halfway hoped that Ahsoka had no idea about him and Obi-Wan. Of course, he reflected, he would have had a better shot at that if he hadn't blown Obi-Wan in the locker room. But that was really beside the point.

"Sounds tough, Master," she said sympathetically. Then she smirked, "Maybe you'll think of a way to resolve your differences..."

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't say it, Snips," he growled, waving his hand warningly at the holo.

Her eyes crossed as she pinpointed his gesture and then uncrossed as a wide grin spread on her face.

Hurriedly, she added, "… in bed."

And then the holocomm snapped off.

Anakin groaned as he leaned back in his chair, covering his eyes with his gloved mechnohand. He didn't need this, especially not from his apprentice. Weren't Padawans supposed to be respectful? He distinctly remembered something about that. And he'd definitely been far less mouthy and disobedient than Ahsoka was.

Obi-Wan appeared to catch that thought; distant as he was in the Force, he seemed to be just on the periphery, pulled away from the strength and light of their bond, yet so close that Anakin felt he was always on the verge of catching sight of him, just out of the corner of his eye. Obi-Wan sent a mild ripple of amusement and reproach over to him.

Anakin tightened his shields and looked up to level a glare at Obi-Wan who returned the look, unruffled and unemotional. Fine. If that was all he was going to give, that was all he was going to get.

"Is everything quite alright back at the Temple?" Obi-Wan called.

Padme shifted in her seat, take off straps restricting her movement though she gave all appearance of being somewhere else entirely. She'd chosen one of her dignified, high collared Senatorial gowns over a flight suit and was currently pretending it was remotely comfortable. Anakin stomped down the urge to tell her she looked pretty.

Anakin clenched his fists into his robes as he stood, striding over to the compartment to glower at them both.

"It's fine," he bit out.

"Then you can join us. There is much we need to discuss regarding the revised terms Urus is asking for."

Anakin rolled his eyes. Oh, yes, that was absolutely what was on his mind, and on theirs.

"Yeah, I don't think so. If you need me, I'll be below decks," he said and started to stalk past them both.

He'd brought half a dozen lightsaber remotes to practice drills with because he was pretty sure that, with the way he'd been feeling lately, drawing on Obi-Wan wouldn't exactly result in a successful mission.

Obi-Wan unbuckled his restraints smoothly, moving to bar his passage. Everything about him was mild and calm; his eyes and his touch and the way he reached out, but not too much, in the Force to admonish Anakin.

"Destroying more remotes?" Obi-Wan sighed. "Honestly, Anakin, you should not dwell on matters."

" _Matters_?"

"A Jedi is mindful of his duties and lets go of irrelevant emotions. We do have a mission to complete and you are a Knight, are you not?"

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan in disbelief. His gaze flicked to the side, to Padme, searching for confirmation that he wasn't insane, that Obi-Wan was actually saying these things. Her dark eyes were full of anger and reproach as she looked at Obi-Wan, and yet that didn't make him feel any better, after what she'd admitted to telling Obi-Wan.

"Or shall I step backwards, treat you as a Padawan? Because you are most certainly acting like one."

Fuck drawing on him. He wasn't even sure he'd think to pull his lightsaber because if Obi-Wan didn't shut up, Anakin was absolutely going to punch him in the face.

Anakin pushed his fingers through his hair shakily.

"I can't – You don't even need to be here, Obi-Wan," he snapped. "You made it clear enough on Coruscant exactly what you thought of our partnership. This is _my_ mission, if you've forgotten, so you're actually under my command. I know the parameters. I don't need a lecture, least of all by you."

He'd hoped Obi-Wan would flinch as Anakin's tone turned scathing, but Obi-Wan did nothing of the sort. He instead nodded humbly. Anakin had never wanted to hit him so much in his life. He gritted his teeth to restrain the urge and stepped around Obi-Wan.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go below decks to meditate on being _anywhere but here_."

"Anakin!" Padme said.

Anakin stiffened and stopped, eyes closing at the distress in her voice. He didn't want to be mad at her – he didn't want to be mad at anyone, honestly – but he simply couldn't believe that she'd confessed that they were married to Obi-Wan. No, confessed wasn't the right word, even. She'd leveraged their marriage against Obi-Wan in some kind of verbal showdown over him that, somehow, still ended up making him feel like he was the least of their concerns.

He sighed as he turned to look at her.

Padme struggled out of her own safety belts, weighed down by her elaborate, bejeweled sleeves. Beads swayed on her headdress as she stood and she brushed them idly out of her eyes. She stepped forward, hand extended to take his. He took it without thinking and she clasped her other hand over it, looking down briefly at her small hands holding his larger one between them.

"I know that this is …"

"The worst?"

Padme smiled ruefully.

"I was going to say awkward. But it is an important mission."

"On that I agree," Obi-Wan put in.

"And despite everything that may have transgressed between us," Padme said.

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed and he mouthed, 'transgressed?'

"Nonetheless, we are all adults and I don't see any reason we need to hide from each other. If you need some time, Ani, I understand," she said, dark eyes wide with sympathy. "But we do need to work on this at some point."

Anakin tensed as she leaned up to brush her lips against his, but even that small contact was enough to make his heart race. He swayed forward as she broke the kiss, almost stumbling, brows knitted in distress that she could touch him and then end it so quickly.

Which was certainly a familiar feeling, he thought in irritation. He recovered himself enough to throw a glare in Obi-Wan's direction.

"I understand that you no longer feel compelled to lie in my presence," Obi-Wan said. He crossed his arms and frowned judgmentally at them both. "But some decorum may be in order."

Anakin exhaled a long, frustrated breath and clenched his hands at his side.

"Are we going to do this? Fine, let's do this. No more of your sly little asides – from either of you," he snapped, catching Padme's eye. She glanced away, nodding apologetically to him but certainly not to Obi-Wan. 

"Anakin, there's no need to be dramatic. Padme and I have meant nothing by our words. You're reading into things."

Which absolutely explained why the Force crackled with hostility and why Obi-Wan and Padme were pretending the other didn't exist, despite nearly stepping on top of each other in the tiny compartment.

"I love you," Anakin said bluntly. He looked from Padme to Obi-Wan, jaw working with restrained emotion. "Both of you. And I _know_ what the Code says, so you don't need to remind me, Obi-Wan."

Padme bit her lip.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Anakin felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. The fear he'd felt since this had begun – tiny, tucked away behind the thrill of a new relationship, the insane hope that he could have both of the people he loved so much – swelled in his chest. He'd gone too far and now he was going to lose Padme, his wife, the only person who in his life who had actually chosen him.

"I – Padme how can you ask that?"

"Shh, I know you love me. I'd never question that. Never, Anakin."

She placed her hand on his cheek and gave a quick shake of her head, enough to allay that fear at least briefly. And then she moved her hand to his forehead, as if checking his temperature.

Actually, that seemed to be exactly what she was doing.

"But we need to know – I need to know – how do you feel right now?"

Anakin saw Obi-Wan rise from his seat out of the corner of his eye. Concern flowed from him in the Force and Anakin cocked his head as he followed it back to the source. As before, Obi-Wan pushed him away; the worry was on the surface, shallow and yet pushed deliberately at Anakin to hide his full reaction.

It was how they treated strangers in the Force, those who were not even Jedi. A deception so that other Force users would not try to dig too deep.

"I feel fine," Anakin said, anger knotted in his stomach.

Padme frowned and drew him down into another kiss, testing.

"And now?" she breathed.

His heart stuttered as she pressed her palm to feel it. The environmentals must have been broken. It was too hot in the cabin and space was never hot, the air stifling as he struggled to draw breath. But even worse, she wasn't touching him enough. He bent to kiss her more fully, hands going to her hips to pull her close.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan said. There was caution in his voice, a growing sense of perturbation.

Anakin leaned on Padme, his forehead dropped to her shoulder as he tried to get a handle on himself. Her fingers stroked his hair.

"You see what I mean?" she asked softly.

He nodded unhappily, but she wasn't actually speaking to him.

"I do, my lady." Anakin jerked away from Padme and looked up at Obi-Wan. He was rubbing thoughtfully at his mustache, gray eyes shuttered as he examined Anakin, pacing around the two of them. "Though I don't see how this offers any recourse for _your_ relationship."

"I don't need to excuse my marriage," Padme returned. "And you would do well mind your own relationships instead of mine."

Obi-Wan scoffed at that.

Anakin blinked rapidly as the undercurrents of the conversation filtered through to him. It was difficult to concentrate with both of them so near. He ran his fingers up Padme's side and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her. Obi-Wan was just out of reach, but maybe if he tugged him closer with the Force…

Obi-Wan frowned at him, mentally deflecting Anakin once more. The aggravation Anakin felt was almost completely at odds with the arousal flooding his system; he wanted them so badly, but he couldn't get over just how angry he still was with them both. And they just kept digging deeper.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "Everything I feel is –"

"I know it feels very real, Anakin. And you've always cared very deeply for Obi-Wan, but we have to consider the possibility that it may just be the drug."

"It would explain a great deal," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin shook his head wordlessly. That was too easy. That was letting Obi-Wan off the hook. He didn't have to return Anakin's feelings because they weren't real. But he _did_ , Anakin was absolutely sure of it. He was just too much of a damned Jedi to admit to it as anything other than their downfall.

"You're wrong," Anakin said hoarsely. "I know what I feel. I know how you feel. It's not just the drug!"

"But what if it is, Ani?"

The hope on her face was a horrible thing and Anakin felt a twist of guilt, heart stopping in his chest.

"Is that what you want?"

Padme looked away from him and pressed her lips together. When she looked back, she had all the composure and poise she displayed in the Senate.

"I want you to be happy."

Anakin extended carefully to her in the Force, unclear as it was with his own emotions. She wasn't lying, that was true. But, he realized with dismay, she wasn't happy either. He opened his mouth to reassure her – he would do _anything_ for her – only to be cut off by Obi-Wan.

"I think, perhaps, we should leave this for another time. We do still have a mission to prepare. And Anakin, you will certainly be spending a great deal of time with the Healers after we return. I shall see to it personally, with restraints if necessary."

The image was oddly compelling.

"Are you offering to cuff me to a bed?" Anakin asked.

If he'd hoped for a rebuke, all he got instead was worry. Padme and Obi-Wan shared a look of concern and Anakin restrained a laugh. Of course. Of course this was the one thing they could actually agree on right now.

"I'm fine," he insisted. This time Obi-Wan did not resist when Anakin wound the Force into his tunics, dragging him closer lest he be undressed. Which also would have been acceptable, now that Anakin thought of it. He bent to nuzzle his cheek against Padme's and then seized Obi-Wan for a deep kiss. "I know what I feel."

"Anakin –"

"No. The drug may make me feel things more strongly." Though he actually doubted that. "But it isn't make me feel anything different." 

Obi-Wan shook his head. For some reason he felt guilty in the Force and Anakin decided he'd had enough of this. Obi-Wan had felt the effects of the drug and come through the other side. He knew full well that it wasn't provoking anything that wasn't already there. And Padme…

Well, he could make them understand. He shared plenty of his experiences with them already. The Force flowed between the three of them with strength and clarity and it wouldn’t take much to prove to them exactly how real his feelings actually were.

The ship shuddered as it was ripped from hyperspace and Anakin held fast to Padme, preventing her from falling as the floor jerked underneath them all.

"What was that?" she asked, brown eyes going wide.

"Nothing good," he said. 

"You should get to the cockpit," Obi-Wan advised. His eyes flicked down to where Anakin was still holding Padme and, with great effort, Anakin managed a nod. 

"I –" he wetted his lips and shut his eyes, pushing away everything he felt. "I've got it. Strap in."

This time they settled back into their seats, next to each other as Anakin strode back into the cockpit.

A huge Separatist cruiser loomed in front of their ship, blotting out the background of stars and a distant planet. It was, most distinctly, not Malastare. And more distinctly, the ship ahead of him was very familiar.

Anakin glared at it as he gripped the ship controls, viewport already flooding with droid fighters.

"Ventress," he hissed out.


	9. Chapter 9

The deck juddered underneath Obi-Wan's feet, but he held steady, eyes locked out the forward port as the tractor beam took hold of the ship. He heard Anakin swear, hands striking the control panel before he slouched in his seat.

"We would be better served by preparation, Anakin," Obi-Wan called. "Rather than sulking."

He'd already had quite enough of that on this little sojourn. He had expected Anakin to be in a temper following his decision regarding their relationship – had presumed that Senator Amidala would continue to posture about her position in Anakin's life. But he'd not quite foreseen the level of awkward distrust that would be sown between the three of them, nor Ventress's ill-timing in interjecting herself back into their little drama.

Of course, had he that kind of prescience, he didn't think he or Anakin would have ended up in this mess to begin with. He would have knocked that horrid drug from Ventress's hands during the first go around and happily continued his entirely platonic, not at all sexually charged relationship with his former Padawan.

There was a slight nudge in the Force at the thought; not even from Anakin. Obi-Wan tilted his head to the side, ruefully acknowledging that even he wasn't good enough at self-delusion to fully believe that.

"Weapons?" Anakin asked as he entered the common area. He was looking to Padme.

"In there," she replied, pointing to a compartment under the seats. She smoothed her hands down her skirt and looked to him anxiously. "How much time do we have?"

"Not enough for you to change."

Padme nodded, expression pulled tight in consternation. Her attire most definitely was not the best for either a fistfight or firefight, though he'd see her acquit herself quite well in worse. The hair ornaments were the biggest problem.

Anakin had surmised the same and moved to Padme to try to disentangle the charmed and bejeweled headdress from her hair, fingers working with careful, yet quick, familiarity.

Obi-Wan watched them silently, taking in the odd domesticity of the scene. Padme closed her eyes, head held still as Anakin. He pulled hairpins out with the Force and held them in the air, half forgotten, fingers pausing here and there to touch her gently, as if in warning, before he tugged the pieces of the headdress out of her hair.

"Do you do this often?" Obi-Wan found himself asking.

Anakin did not pause in his work, but Padme opened her eyes, looking at him calmly.

"I dismiss my handmaidens when Anakin visits."

Obi-Wan harrumphed disapprovingly.

"I suppose you enjoy that."

It was not hard to envision this exact scene playing out in her – their – bedroom, Anakin undressing her, working on her elaborate dresses to slowly reveal skin, touching her and kissing her as he removed layer after layer. Kneeling before her, one hand on her thigh as he worked the last of her clothes down her legs.

Obi-Wan shook himself as he suddenly realized Anakin was projecting that very memory. The headdress lay on the bench of seats, a collection of pins piled next to it.

Anakin's hands had moved to Padme's waist, holding her as he nuzzled her neck. She swayed in his grasp, as lost in the memory as Obi-Wan had been moments ago.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan reprimanded sharply. He was aware that Anakin was hardly in control of himself at the moment, but Ventress's toxic presence pressed closer in the Force, nearly upon them, and here Anakin was distracted by the scent of his wife.

Anakin looked up blearily and Obi-Wan felt a distinct chill settle on him, running down his back and stiffening his muscles with an anxiety he rarely felt when going into battle. He had become quite accustomed to counting on Anakin to cover his back – if not lead the charge and half win the battle before Obi-Wan even arrived.

"The blasters," Padme said.

Anakin nodded distractedly, letting go of her with obvious reluctance. He crouched to open the panel up and fished out a small holdout blaster, as well as a larger, inelegant, black blaster carbine. He tossed the holdout to Padme and she hitched up her skirt, baring her leg as she slid the weapon into a holster high on her thigh. Anakin watched, entranced.

Obi-Wan had to shake himself of the same temptation.

"Your shoes, Senator," he said, nodding to her foot where it was propped on the seat. She swiftly removed it and her other shoe. "And your skirt, I think."

"It's not detachable," Anakin put in.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. Of course Anakin would know that.

"I think you will find, there is nothing," he said as he lit his saber,"That is not detachable."

Padme frowned at him, but neither jumped nor flinched as he carefully angled his blade to swipe her skirt in half, cutting it just above her knees. The heavy fabric all but collapsed onto the floor and she turned in place, allowing him to cut off the back as well. He closed down his lightsaber, hooking it back onto his belt as he admired his work. The smell was rather unpleasant, though he didn't think the effect was entirely uncompelling. Padme rubbed the burnt brocade edge between her fingers and then took a half step forward, planting her bare foot to kick directly at Obi-Wan's head.

He caught her by the ankle and she smiled dazzlingly as he set her back down. They both chose to pretend that hadn't been sincerely meant.

"It will do, I suppose," she said.

"Good, because I believe we have arrived."

"You have nice legs," Anakin said to Padme.

Obi-Wan frowned down at him and Anakin shrugged. He didn't look nearly so dazed as he had moments before, so he was unfortunately forced to conclude that was Anakin's actual inclination speaking, not the work of the drug. Uninhibited by propriety and secrecy, he seemed to be something of a chatty idiot about Padme's beauty.

Which, he thought distantly, he did seem to recall from Anakin's adolescence.

"You would do well to ready yourself," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin wobbled slightly as he stood and Obi-Wan felt his stomach drop – as much fear about the state Anakin was in as the void in the Force that Ventress represented. The vivid anger that he recalled from previous encounters, thrashing around him in the Force, was not yet present. Instead it felt like they'd been drawn into a solid mass of nothingness, his own vision in the Force feeling stifled and dim.

The only emotion he could feel at all seemed like something akin to smugness.

Obi-Wan nudging Anakin to stand behind him before he could attempt to lead them out of the ship and down the gangplank. The timing of Anakin's disorientation was entirely too fortuitous. He had to wonder if Malastare was in crisis at all, or if Urus's bid to renegotiate the fuel contract with the Republic was a ruse – which either meant he had been blackmailed by Ventress or worked in league with her.

Well, that was a problem for another time.

Obi-Wan strode forward, hearing Anakin's loud booted footfalls echo on the durasteel floor as Padme padded along next to them, silent and wary. He saw her raise the blaster carbine from the corner of his eye as he depressed the button on the control panel to lower the ramp.

"Do we have a plan?" Padme asked tightly.

"Kill her," Anakin replied. He'd drawn his lightsaber and twisted it around in his hand, as if he couldn't find a comfortable grip. His hair was dampened with sweat, feverish color in his cheeks. Ventress had planned well indeed, Obi-Wan thought angrily. Anakin caught him looking and offered a grin. "And anyone else nearby."

"Oh, General Kenobi," Ventress called. "Do come out. Hesitance does not suit you."

Obi-Wan sighed.

"She does have a point," he murmured.

The hangar bay was well lit, filled with gleaming ships and a large cluster of vulture droids that looked ready to launch should they somehow manage to get back into space. Ventress stood in a circle of advanced battledroids, their arms aimed directly at Obi-Wan as he strode forward. He stopped a few paces away from Ventress, despite the temptation to see just how many degrees he could get those droids to alter their targeting. Advanced as they supposedly were, they were hardly intelligent enough to avoid blasting each other to pieces when so coerced.

He planted his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at Ventress.

"This is quite the reception, my dear, but I daresay it is a bit much. I don't suppose you will simply allow us to go on our way?"

Ventress smiled broadly.

"I'm sorry it's not more to your liking, General Kenobi. Especially because this time you will be my guests for a rather extended stay."

He nodded politely to her, stomach feeling tight and nerves thrumming with anger despite his outward demeanor. He would not permit her to experiment on Anakin any further, and certainly had no interest in going for a second round himself.

"A pity. I did have to ask."

Ventress waved her droid forward with a flick of her fingers.

"Of course."

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber an instant before the droids opened fire – with stun blasts. He heard Anakin curse behind him and watched a blaster bolt spatter red against the shining breast plate of the droid nearest Ventress. Two more bolts hit, one dead center on the droid's processing unit, before is fell. His blade slashed through the droid nearest to him while Anakin took up position at his side, whirling his blade to deflect the droids' blaster fire directly at Ventress herself. She didn't bother to ignite either of her lightsabers, idly stepping to the side to avoid the weak, reflected stun bolts.

Padme held steady behind them, aiming through Anakin's deflections with accuracy Obi-Wan would otherwise have found impressive.

"Get her," Anakin grunted out. He slashed a droid and then kicked the pieces apart, turning to catch Obi-Wan's eye. "She's completely open!"

She was.

Obi-Wan eyed Ventress warily and he waded forward, confident that Anakin and Padme were adequately covering him.

"What is your game, Ventress?" he asked, circling her.

"I am sure you already know. You and Skywalker did so well the first time," Ventress purred. "I can't say how thrilled I am to have you back."

He struck at her, pleased at how she stumbled, just barely igniting her blade to catch a blow that would have cleaved through her sternum. She heaved his blade away and spun to slash at his legs. He jumped over her blade and, with a touch of Ataru, landed one foot while he used his momentum to kick her across the face. She smiled with bloodied teeth and crossed blades with him again.

"This is beneath you," Obi-Wan told her, spinning away from one of her thrusts. "You and Dooku both. What's next in this nefarious plot of yours, releasing a sex holo?"

Obi-Wan was aware that the stun bolts from the droids had stopped coming. Any moment now, Anakin would be at his side and they would take Ventress together.

Ventress looked mildly put out by his line of questioning.

" _Hardly_. We have much more interesting plans for all of you."

Obi-Wan scoffed, narrowing his eyes.

"So you keep saying."

"I mean, a holo?" she gave a throaty, nervous laugh. "As you say, that is quite beneath me."

Obi-Wan had the feeling that a sex holo was her actual plan. He could not rightly say if that would actually negatively impact morale in the Republic – though perhaps she was pursuing it as more of a moneymaking venture?

"Any time now, Anakin!" he called. He Force pushed Ventress away and she snarled, blade scoring the deck as she halted her backward slide. Obi-Wan twisted to look for Anakin. "Oh, for the love of the Force!"

Anakin had pressed Padme down against the lowered ramp, kissing her deeply. Her hand still clutched the blaster carbine, grip held against his shoulder. Her long, firm leg, bared by her cut skirt, wrapped around his waist as he moved into a better position.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan snapped.

His irritation was all that held back the shock of arousal burning along his Force bond with Anakin. He focused on it, his disappointment and, yes, his jealousy. Anything to stifle the way his pulse raced as he watched Anakin's ass flex through his thin trousers, as he felt his own tighten as blood rushed to his dick. Padme was just visible over Anakin's shoulder. She looked almost intoxicated, no doubt caught up once more in the flood of feelings from Anakin's uninhibited, reckless use of the Force. Her lips parted as Anakin kissed down her throat, her cheeks flushed.

"I think you'll find my experiment has many uses, General Kenobi," Ventress said into his ear. He was relieved when she groped only at his chest. "It's an excellent battle field distraction."

He watched with satisfaction as Ventress's battle droids, not nearly as disabled as Anakin apparently thought, closed in on the ship and hauled the pair of them apart. It was well deserved, he thought, but Anakin didn't even seem to catch his glare, nor the deliberate approbation he sent singing across their bond in the Force.

Anakin was too busy looking at Padme.

Ventress laughed, feeling the entirely unpleasant jolt of un-Jedi-like emotion that flooded Obi-Wan as he watched them.

"Enough," he said. Obi-Wan turned in her grasp to narrow his eyes at her. "Just knock me out."

"My pleasure."

He'd regret the head injury later, he was sure, but at least it wasn't more of that damned drug.


	10. Chapter 10

Obi-Wan came to cradled in Anakin's lap. Padme watched silently from across the cell, feeling every bit the fool. She all but quivered with disgust at herself, her lack of control and selfishness, as she folded her legs under the burnt hem of her skirt. It just barely covered her knees. She felt exposed, jolting as she realized she was still being watched. Rather than turning to leave, Ventress remained in the doorway to the cell.

"I must admit I am surprised," Ventress said. A violent smile curved her lips. The harsh interior lights silhouetted her until all Padme could see was the shape of her smirk, the careless wave of her hands. "I didn't expect a Jedi to Force bond with a Senator. You hardly seem his type."

Padme's eyes settled on Anakin's back. She couldn't read him. He'd done his best to close down the link between them, as horrified as she was when he realized what had happened, blaster digging into his back the only thing that had stopped him from fucking her right there on the ship ramp – had stopped them both, Padme admitted to herself.

Anakin did not respond to Ventress's words. His fingertips rested on Obi-Wan's cheek, his eyes half closed as he examined his Master in the Force. Padme could not clearly see Obi-Wan, only the twitch of his hand, restrained as he moved to reach out for Anakin and then stopped himself. The stillness of the moment, completeness of their interaction only with each other, left her aching with a jealousy she only wished she could dismiss.

"And Obi-Wan is?" Padme asked, tearing her eyes away from the two of them.

"My dear," Ventress began, voice rich with condescension, "there are only two people Jedi ever bond with: their Master and their Padawan."

Padme felt the air freeze in her lungs. Ahsoka.

"Anakin would _never_ –" she sputtered out.

Ventress laughed.

"That is the point of this little experiment. Further fine tuning is necessary. Oh, I suppose you could ascribe it to your beloved's fine moral character, if you wish. But tell me, had I captured him with the girl, would you have been willing to watch the holo? Even as much as you _trust_ him?"

Padme lifted her chin.

"You don't know anything about him or the Jedi if you think that would work."

Ventress stepped down into the cell, gait slow and assured, hips swaying with her cockiness. The door remained open and Padme's gaze lingered on it, the obvious avenue of escape that Ventress wasn't even bothering to guard. She leaned down, hand seizing Padme's face roughly to pull it level with her own.

"I know them far better than you think," she spat. "And I know that my drug would do nearly as much damage to the Jedi's reputation as they already have themselves. You know what people say about them. You know. Baby thieves and sluts, all of them. No reason not to think those two vices might... mix."

"You keep talking like you haven't already failed," Padme replied. She locked her eyes with Ventress's, voice steady in her anger.

Ventress pushed her face away, nail raking a line of blood across Padme's cheek. She straightened as she gazed down at Padme.

"A trifle. A matter of adjusting the dosage. You have seen the effects of the drugs in isolation." Padme felt her stomach tighten at the plural. "In combination, they will be devastating."

Padme pressed her hands to her face, closing her eyes. Two drugs. That explained all the differences. Obi-Wan's fast burning reaction, cured before they even returned from the mission, to light the fuse and Anakin's slowly building obsessions, his need to deepen the connections he already had with them, despite the foolishness of it all. 

She was the only one without an excuse.

Across the cell, Anakin heaved an irritated sigh and Obi-Wan pushed himself to sit upright. There was a streak of red across his forehead, a dark swelling high on his temple. Ventress had chosen to knock him out the old fashioned way. Anakin put a steadying arm around Obi-Wan, concern pulling his mouth into a tight frown. Obi-Wan struggled to get out of his grasp, to get his legs under him and stand, but Anakin held fast to restrain him.

The contact was a bad idea. Anakin restraint was already fraying – Padme could sense that and she knew she shouldn't. She wouldn't be able to sense anything at all in the Force if Anakin weren't losing his grasp on his tenuous control, if he weren't giving in to impulse again to draw her into his Force presence. She could see the flush to his cheeks and the uncertain, hard press of his hand to Obi-Wan's shoulder. He wanted more contact and less, a caress or a blow, and ended up clinging too hard because letting go was not on the table at all.

Ventress saw it all as well and smiled broadly at the obvious effect her drug had on Anakin even now.

"You've done more than enough already," Obi-Wan snapped at Anakin. He tried to remove Anakin's hands from himself again and succeeded this time, wobbling horribly as he stood. His face was ashen as he leveled a glare at Ventress. "Your confession is appreciated, my dear."

"Thank you, General Kenobi. But if the next thing out of your mouth is a demand that I surrender to the tender mercies of the Order, you can save your breath."

Obi-Wan smiled at her.

"I wouldn't dream of asking that. You'll die at my hand or you will suffer for every crime you've just admitted. But surrender gains you nothing. I simply wished to praise your honesty."

Ventress threw her head back to laugh. She sauntered over to Obi-Wan, reaching out to run her long fingers over Obi-Wan's check.

"Will he die of it?" she breathed out. Obi-Wan's expression did not so much as flicker. She tilted her head, studying him with delight. "It is a possibility. You cured yourself, my dear, at cost to him. I can feel that delicious self-loathing you feel, your weakness and his combined. Kill me if you wish and then watch as your beloved dies."

Obi-Wan's jaw clenched as he restrained his response, eyes hard with his anger.

"Oh, but I forgot," she said merrily. She leaned in closer, fingernails digging in as she held his face to look at her. Her crimson lips curled at the irony. "You love no one and nothing."

"Nothing but the Force," Obi-Wan responded stridently.

Anakin flinched. He'd watched with palpable anger up until now, just barely holding himself back from tackling Ventress. He rose to his feet, expression subdued as he processed, once again, the limitations that Obi-Wan put upon their relationship. He caught Padme's eye briefly and her lips parted, but he looked away before she could speak.

Ventress laughed and pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's cheek, nails leaving welts as he pulled away from her.

Anakin's control in the Force splintered suddenly – but he managed to bend it consciously to a new aim, projecting a plan rather than distorted, lustful thoughts. Padme caught her breath and nodded, to herself and Anakin. Ventress was distracted.

Padme gritted her teeth as she launched herself to her feet, hands clasped together to strike at Ventress. She brought them down on Ventress's neck as Anakin kneed her in the stomach. Padme moved in close to crack Ventress one more time across the face with her bound wrists before she managed to recover her presence of mind and push out with the Force, knocking Padme back a step.

"Very good, Senator," Ventress purred as she tongued her split lip.

Her lightsabers jumped into her hands and she lit them, gesturing with indolent unconcern to make Padme scamper back. The corrugated floor dug into the soft flesh of her feet as she took a position next to Anakin.

"I don't know what you think you have to gain from that little act of rebellion. I am holding all the cards."

"Your naivete is charming as ever," Obi-Wan put in from behind her.

"You Dark Siders. You think this," Anakin started. His hand moved faster than Padme could see, grabbing Ventress's wrist and squeezing until she dropped one lightsaber. She grunted, kicking him across the face and lashing out with her other blade. He rolled with the blow as it connected and came up with her lit saber to block her sword, fierce grin on his face as he continued, "is all there is to power."

Ventress snarled as she engaged him.

Anakin was off kilter, Padme could see that much. She cast a wary look to Obi-Wan, hoping that his injury was largely feigned, but he too looked worried.

The cell did not give Anakin or Ventress much room for flourishes. Anakin wielded his stolen blade with almost undue care, avoiding the broad strokes Padme had seen so often from him in combat. He fought with the tip of the blade while Ventress slashed at him with reckless abandon – of course, she didn't care if she hit Padme or Obi-Wan in the process.

"You're sweating, Skywalker," Ventress said. The red light of the blades reflected in her eyes. "Am I too much for you?"

"Just a little stuffy in here. You keep talking and using up all the air."

"Do you have a plan?" Padme asked Obi-Wan quietly.

"Of course, my lady," he replied.

He rocked back on his feet, watching as Anakin and Ventress crossed blades again. Anakin pushed into the stalemate and his red lightsaber skidded down Ventress's, throwing plasma wildly. She swore as she pulled back and he pressed the advantage to punch her in the face.

"Any time now," Anakin snapped.

"Oh, I thought you had it," Obi-Wan replied.

"Hardly," Ventress said.

And that was the last thing she said as, perfectly coordinated, Anakin held out one hand, pinning her with the Force as Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around her throat in a chokehold. She cursed as she struggled until, finally, Obi-Wan lowered her to the cell floor with undue gentleness.

Anakin closed the red blade down and dropped it, wiping his hand on his trousers with an expression of disgust.

"Time to get out of here?" he asked.

"Anakin –" Padme shook her head. "We can't. The drug."

Anakin blinked in confusion and, in that moment, it was clear exactly how affected he still was. Padme wondered if the effort of the fight had somehow made it worse, metabolizing the drug more quickly – or if the control necessary to shake it off just meant he suffered more for it now. In any case, he went pink as he came to an entirely wrong conclusion about what she meant.

"We can," he said. He cocked his head to the side, waggling his eyebrows. "I was just hoping for more privacy."

"I believe she is referring to the further doses Ventress spoke of," Obi-Wan said snippily. "And the experimentation she planned to implement."

"Oh. And the holos?"

"We'll be destroying those," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin looked outright crushed. Padme was actually a little less certain of that than Obi-Wan was. It wasn't that she wanted to allow something as dangerous as sex tape of the Republic's heroes to remain in the hands of the Separatists, of course, but she admitted to some curiosity. Obi-Wan wasn't entirely bad looking and she too easily recalled the image of the two of them together, the way Anakin had told the story to her, buried inside her touching her every way Obi-Wan had touched him. Padme caught her breath as she pushed the memory aside. That was the Force bond, she was sure of it. Anakin was affecting her again.

She stepped to Anakin's side, pulling his face down to hers. He grinned as he tried to kiss her, but she dodged it, looking up into his eyes seriously.

"We need to find a cure, Ani," she said.

"We know the cure."

"We know no such thing, Anakin. For me, yes. But Ventress admitted that she dosed you with something different, something complementary. After the past week, I think it is quite clear that sexual congress is of no help whatsoever."

Padme could see that Anakin was ready to make some kind of dumb joke about the Senate. She spoke quickly to cut him off, "Ani, he's right. We need to find Ventress's lab."

"And I suggest we do it before she wakes up," Obi-Wan added.

Anakin was cognizant enough to acknowledge that point.

Obi-Wan led them from the cell, injury apparently not inhibiting his movement. Padme pushed Anakin ahead of her to better keep an eye on both of them. She wished either of them would deign to take a weapon, since it wouldn't be anything like safe for her to pick up one of Ventress's lightsabers. But they'd encounter droids soon enough, she was sure, and get blasters from them.

The ship was not yet on alert – which spoke to Ventress's arrogance. She should have set the droids to assume they were under assault if she lost contact even momentarily. Obi-Wan clearly thought along the same lines as he crept down the hall, first moving silently with his back pressed to the wall, one hand held out cautiously to ward off Anakin, and then with a careless kind of indifference. He straightened, frowning as he peeked around the corner to another empty corridor, and then shrugged.

"Perhaps your behavior was for the best," he told Anakin. He wasn't even pretending to speak to Padme. Anakin nodded woozily in agreement, obviously unsure of what Obi-Wan actually meant. He elaborated, "Ventress has forgotten our capabilities entirely."

"Where do you think her lab is?" Padme asked.

He rubbed his forefinger over his mustache.

"On a vessel like this, it would be on a secure deck, well away from the prisoner containment area. I would suggest slicing the computer for more information …" he trailed off with another look to Anakin.

Padme wound her arm around Anakin's waist and took his hand in hers when he reached down to touch her in a somewhat more friendly way. 

"Ani, do you think you can get us the information from the computer?"

He smiled down at her, leaning forward to tilt his forehead against hers. He brushed a lock of her hair from her face with his free hand and kissed her on the nose.

"I love you," he murmured.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said sharply. "Concentrate."

Anakin pulled away from her to glare crankily at Obi-Wan.

"I love you too, even if you're an asshole," Anakin said.

"That's not what I want you to concentrate on!"

"He's still mad about what I said earlier," Anakin confided to Padme. He looked over her shoulder, eyes scanning appraisingly over Obi-Wan. "I'm sorry, but your legs just aren't as nice as Padme's. But I like your arms. And your hands. And…"

Padme put her hand over his mouth and he pressed a kiss to it. His eyes were bright and happy, the train of thought entirely lost now that she'd stopped him. She sighed, turning in Anakin's arms to catch Obi-Wan's eye.

"Can you do it?"

"First, I think you will need a weapon. I'll almost certainly set off an alarm and you will need to be prepared for the droids."

"I think I can help there," Anakin said into her hair. 

Padme cocked her head, surprised that he had apparently been following the conversation after all. And then he slid his hand under her skirt, up her leg. He mouth went dry, eyes still locked with Obi-Wan. He took an involuntary step forward – to stop Anakin, she thought – but then, kissing the back of her neck, Anakin unholstered the featherlight holdout blaster she had entirely forgotten about. He wrapped her limp hand around it, touch lingering.

"Oh," she exhaled.

She was disappointed. It was ridiculous that she was disappointed, but at least she could take satisfaction from Obi-Wan's similarly put out expression.

Obi-Wan forced himself to recover his composure.

"I think I see an access console down that direction," he said, gesturing down the hall without looking. 

He set off away from them, gait oddly clipped.

Padme pulled out of Anakin's embrace, and they followed close together, his chest brushing against her back.

"How bad is it really?" she asked as they found Obi-Wan. He knelt in front of a panel better suited for Artoo to meddle with as they took up positions on either side of him. Anakin laid his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, fingers rubbing back and forth over the coarse material as the other man pulled tools from his belt, one already held between his teeth as he worked. "I know before you and I got a little –"

"Distracted?" Anakin said with a grin. He shrugged one shoulder, eyes fixed on her with unhealthy fascination. "It's bad, Padme. Worse when I'm not touching you."

She glanced at him and then back down her side of the corridor, blaster held ready near her chest. 

"That sounds like a line," she replied.

Every single time since he'd first been captured, it had been touch that had escalated things. He held it together just fine at the Temple, performed his duties and made his reports to the Council. It was just that as soon as he was back with her – or Obi-Wan – that he lost all sense of himself, that he pulled them into the ever deepening Force bonds he was creating until all their emotions and desire was mixed together and she didn't even want to think straight.

"I'd never use a line on you," Anakin said, sounding wounded. Padme raised an eyebrow to herself that. She distinctly recalled differently. His footsteps were quiet on the deck plating as he maneuvered around Obi-Wan to stand behind her, hand on her hip holding her in place to keep her position as guard. He nudged her feet apart, his own set against her insole. He bent to kiss down her neck, mumbling, "I love you, Padme. Only you. I can't stand the thought of being without you."

Padme arched into the kisses. He felt so warm against her, hands steady and mouth hot on her skin, his hips flush against her, his arousal obvious.

There was nothing coming down the corridor. Nothing to focus on except his touch. The sound of Obi-Wan working faded until all she heard was her own pulse racing. She bit her lip and clenched her hand around the butt of her blaster, trying to ground herself in the feel of cold durasteel.

"Obi-Wan is nothing to me," Anakin added. It wasn't true. Not five minutes before he'd professed his love to Obi-Wan and now he denied it, his voice urgent and his hands clutching at her with desperation. He was just saying things he thought she wanted to hear.

Padme turned with a ragged sound, grabbing him by the face to kiss him roughly. 

"I am right here, you realize."

Padme broke apart from Anakin with a shock as Obi-Wan rose, dusting his knees off as he glowered at them both. He folded his arms in front of himself waiting for, she supposed, an apology, but she refused to give it. Instead, she merely brought her blaster back up and surveyed both sides of the hall.

"Did you finish?" she asked him.

Klaxons screamed to life and the hallway was recast in a red glow.

"Indeed," he said, as if he couldn't have merely messed up so badly that he'd set off the alarms without getting the necessary information. He tapped at a frozen display screen right above the panel he'd opened. "Deck four, below the bridge."

"And where are we?"

The blood on his temple made his wry smile slightly more daunting than it would have been otherwise. She was well accustomed to situations such as this, even if it wasn't her vocation.

"Deck one hundred. I do hope they haven't frozen the lifts."

Padme grimaced at the thought. Her vocation, she admitted, did involve functioning elevators.


	11. Chapter 11

They had frozen the lifts.

The upside, in Anakin's opinion, was that meant carrying Padme up the emergency stairs, so they were in constant contact. The downside was that Obi-Wan had Padme's blaster and prodded him in the back any time he put her down – or held her against a wall – to kiss her.

Obi-Wan wavered on his feet as they paused on the final landing. Anakin settled Padme back down on her feet, pleased when she remained in his arms. He perched his chin on the crown of her head to look slantwise at Obi-Wan.

"How's the …"

He touched two fingers to his own temple, avidly searching Obi-Wan's expression even as he probed their Force bond. He looked alright. Actually, he looked pretty damn great. He wasn't any more winded than Anakin was thanks to the Force, but there was healthy color in his cheeks. The dried blood had flaked off, though some was carried in tiny rivulets of sweat down along his jawline. It worked for him, though. It definitely worked. Anakin liked the scruffy, slightly beat up look on him.

When he thought about it, he liked a lot of looks on Obi-Wan. He thought back to the showers at the Temple, Obi-Wan's body gleaming with water under the spray, half smile sent Anakin's way again and again.

That had been nice.

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan repeated and Anakin focused on him, his mouth pursed angrily and half hidden by his beard.

Right. Anakin took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he tried to regain control over himself. It didn't really matter how nice it had been. It wasn't ever happening again.

"We'll need to work quickly," Padme said. She groped backwards to find Anakin's hand, squeezing it. Anakin smiled as he cinched his other arm tighter around her waist. "Do you think you'll be able to focus, Anakin?"

"Or will we need to restrain you?" Obi-Wan asked. He had a narrow, suspicious look on his face. Entirely displeased by the proceedings so far, Anakin surmised. Which was unfair. Who'd broken up with whom, exactly?

"You don't need to do that," Anakin replied, rolling his eyes.

But. If they wanted to, that was an entirely different thing. He raised his eyebrows at Obi-Wan, sending that thought along, only to recoil at the nasty, roiling anger that greeted him.

That… was not what he expected.  
Obi-Wan held his gaze for a long moment before breaking off with a frustrated sound. He pushed a shaking hand through his hair. Anakin's eyes followed the gesture, his fingers tracing the fine embroidery up Padme's side. This was ridiculous. All of it was ridiculous. If Obi-Wan would just calm down and think rationally, they could settle all of this like adults.

Anakin's eyes slipped toward the stairs and then the wall. He wasn't really sure how the positions with the three of them would work, but he knew they could figure something out. He didn't mind going to his knees again. But if he did that with Obi-Wan, where would Padme be?

He pondered that mystery, brow furrowed.

"Right, Anakin, you will take point," Obi-Wan said, cutting off Anakin's thoughts. He was glaring fiercely at both Anakin and Padme, who shifted angrily within Anakin's embrace but did not step out of it. "As I am the only one with a semblance of control, I shall go next, and the good Senator will take up the rear. Well away from _you_.

"The laboratory is down the corridor. I think you'll be able to discern the markings on the door, even in this state."

"I haven't gone illiterate."

"And yet you are acting remarkably dull-witted nonetheless." Obi-Wan's tone dipped into utter disdain, "It remains a shock that you are even speaking right now, though the coherence of the conversation leaves something to be desired."

Anakin jerked his chin up to glare at Obi-Wan.

"Keep that up and I won't blow you later."

Obi-Wan worked his jaw and then a sudden calm came over him. A challenge glinted in his eyes as he crossed his arms smugly.

"We both know that isn't true."

Anakin cursed softly. Obi-Wan had him there.

"Anakin," Padme said sharply. She stepped out of his arms and he felt the loss keenly, taking one abortive step forward to try to pull her back to him. She looked up at him, expression determined. "We need to get you cured and get out of here."

He nodded to her, feeling chastened. The benches on the ship would probably be a lot more comfortable than any flat surfaces they could find around here.

Brandishing her holdout blaster, Padme positioned herself at an angle to the door as Obi-Wan hit the control. It whooshed open softly, the klaxons filling the stairwell once more with their noise. Padme waved Anakin forward with the blaster and he took a deep breath, forcing his feet to move.  
Obi-Wan followed him, closeness a comfort that steadied Anakin's steps. He could feel the warmth of Obi-Wan's presence and, beneath that, the tenuous control Obi-Wan kept of his emotional state. It was a difficult thing, wresting their Force bond into compliance, avoiding everything Anakin felt and thought. The years had done more than forge the link between them; Anakin and Obi-Wan had themselves been forged, pieces of the same whole, and it was no small thing to try to separate them now.

Honestly, it wasn't even really possible, though Obi-Wan was clearly trying his damnedest.

Half way down the hall, Anakin spotted the bio-haz markings on the door to what had to be the laboratory. He stalled his approach and felt Obi-Wan do the same.

"What do you think?"

"Slicing it will not work at this juncture. Even if I could trust you to do it."

"Right," Anakin said. He glanced at Obi-Wan over his shoulder and the other man pulled up short, suddenly averting his eyes. Anakin grinned. "You were looking."

According to gossip rags – and Padme – he had a pretty nice ass.

"I was – honestly, Anakin, that is not the point. You will have to use the Force to open the lab because the alarms have surely locked it down as much as they did the lifts. And if you cannot accomplish the task adequately, then I am quite sure I can do it, head injury and all."

Anakin thought about arguing against the word adequate, but whatever offense he felt faded quickly. That was one of the nicer effects of the drug. His training failed again and again in the face of the overwhelming emotions and desires that he felt, but at the same time, he mostly just didn't care.

It was very freeing.

He shrugged under Obi-Wan's dark glower, aware that Obi-Wan was struggling with desire just as much as he and Padme were, and moved to the laboratory door controls.

Anakin closed his eyes, hand hovering over the passcode box as he waited for the Force to guide him. Ventress's impression was deep here, a weight that pressed down around him as a noxious cloud of emotion and violence. It was difficult to draw meaning out of the Darkness, flowing back inward every time he parted the mists long enough to pull at one of the threads the Force extended to him.

It was wearing and tedious and entirely too like fighting with himself, but eventually his hand moved of its own accord, punching in the code the Force all but knocked him into.

Obi-Wan's hand fell on his shoulder and his approval was warm in the Force, dispelling the cold mist of Ventress's presence.

"Good work," Obi-Wan murmured.

Anakin opened his eyes and nodded to him.

"Thank you, Master."

Obi-Wan met his smile appreciatively and brushed past him into the open laboratory. Anakin watched him in silence, listening to the thud of his heartbeat and feeling their bond in the Force, bright and warm and affectionate – no, not affectionate, _loving_. And then in two short strides he was behind Obi-Wan, grabbing him to turn him around. Laboratory instruments of some delicacy rattled as Anakin shoved him against the gray, duraplast workbench to kiss him.

Something fell to the deck floor and shattered. Anakin groaned as Obi-Wan's mouth opened under his. Obi-Wan pushed himself onto the table more fully and spread his legs for Anakin to stand between.

Anakin ground against him as he pulled Obi-Wan's tunic from his belt, left hand running up the other's man's stomach. This was right. It didn't matter what stupid things Obi-Wan said to him at the Temple, what he'd said to Ventress, because Anakin could feel how much he wanted this right here and right now. They were meant to be together.

Distantly, he heard the door close. He most certainly felt Padme come closer. Breathing unevenly, he broke away from Obi-Wan to smile at her, extending one hand to her in invitation.

Padme looked tempted. Sincerely tempted. But then her eyes slid from Anakin to Obi-Wan; already he could feel Obi-Wan stiffening against him _and not in the right way_. Embarrassment flashed across their Force bond.

"Padme, please," Anakin urged.

Obi-Wan placed his hands on Anakin's shoulders to push him away, setting his feet back on the floor. He didn't even try to right his clothing, instead looking at the floor as he tried to right himself in the Force. It wasn't working and Anakin had no intention of letting it. With determination, he pushed everything he was feeling directly at Obi-Wan.

"Stop that this instant," Obi-Wan snapped.

"Yes, I –" Padme's voice was ragged and breathless, recalling so many nights they'd spent together. Anakin looked at her, pleased at her red cheeks, the way she couldn't stop touching her own skin under her shortened skirt. "Anakin, stop."

Mulishly, he did.

"We're going to talk about this," he told them both.

Obi-Wan looked like he was ready to argue the point, but Padme nodded.

"On the ship."

As far as Anakin was concerned, they were on _a_ ship right now, so there wasn't much reason to wait.

Obi-Wan studiously ignored Anakin as he walked a circuit around the lab, trying to figure out what they were looking for. Padme picked carefully around the broken glass on the deck as she joined the search at an inset computer console in another area of the laboratory, near a set of cages that had once held small animals for experimentation. Anakin watched them both work before he finally forced himself to turn back to the work table, hands pressed to the surface as he stared down at it without seeing.

If there was any kind of cure to administer, it was here. He tensed his muscles as he refocused, taking in the vials and datapads scattered across the table. He took up a datapad, keying it on and then tossing it down again. It was locked and he didn't feel equipped to attempt to find the passcode through the murk of Ventress's Force residue all over again.

Their absence hurt. Obi-Wan and Padme were both right here, but every step they took away from him weighed more heavily on him. His desperation crept in on the edges of his mind, tinging every thought with need.

"What if there is no cure?" he asked suddenly.

He didn't know how long he could keep doing this, get so close to them only to have them pull back. He didn't care how dangerous it was or where they were. It hadn't matter before and it didn't matter now.

"It's infectious, Anakin, especially to Force users. Ventress isn't fool enough to risk herself," Obi-Wan returned.

"But what if there isn't?" he demanded. He turned in place, glowering at them both. "What if this is just me, not the drug?"

"There's a cure, Ani, we just need to find it."

It was a cheap thing to say. An easy platitude.

Anakin balled his fist and smashed it down into the table, glaring fiercely at them both. They started at the sound, looking up from their own investigations.

"You don't know that! It didn't do what it was supposed to do with me. Maybe –"

"Ani, what it was supposed to do is vile," Padme said quickly. Obi-Wan stopped her in her tracks as she tried to get back to Anakin's side and she pushed past him with an irritated look. She reached out to touch lightly at Anakin's arm, hand trailing down to rest on his on the table. "If it's you, then it's the best part of you."

"If, however, your brief bout of existential angst is little more than a ploy to get back under the Senator's skirts," Obi-Wan began skeptically. Anakin took that as license to slide his hand up Padme's thigh and Obi-Wan sighed. Whatever, Anakin thought. If Obi-Wan was going to call him out on something, he might as well actually do it. Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, his voice turned snappish as he finished, "Then I think you shall hardly be cured any time soon."

"It's not. I – I've been thinking this entire time, Obi-Wan. It's been days and we've done everything together." He caught Obi-Wan's looked and corrected himself. "Or not everything, but a lot. And I don't feel different. I want you more, want you both, but it just feels like me."

Padme leaned up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. He shifted his hand up, simply resting it innocently on her back. He ached for more and hated that it didn't even feel strange. He always ached.

"No one is saying it will be over when we cure you, Anakin," she said softly.

Anakin clenched his jaw and looked at Obi-Wan. He could feel the other man's heart racing, heated and thrilling along their Force bond. It went deeper than sex, it was everything they were to each to other, and that was the worst of it, because that was why Obi-Wan had broken up with him. Anakin felt a twist of anguish in his chest, felt the sharp intake of Obi-Wan's breath as if he'd taken it himself. If he felt nothing, it wouldn't matter. They could carry on sleeping with each other.

That he didn't want it to end, that he wanted it to be real and everlasting, was the exact reason Obi-Wan had already said no.

Even though he felt the same way. Anakin was sure of it.

"We should focus on finding a cure," Obi-Wan said.

Anakin closed his eyes, sagging against Padme.

"Of course," he muttered.

She carefully stroked her fingers over his back, pressing a kiss to his cheek before dragging herself away from him. Anakin huddled in on himself, feeling bereft.

He was better than this. He could go back to the way things were before – but it wouldn't be like that, he knew. Obi-Wan had threatened to separate the fleet and it was obvious now that he really would go that far. He thought it was necessary to go that far.

And what about Ahsoka? Anakin thought of her bleakly. He'd all but told her to throw herself at Barriss. Between that and his own attachments, there was no way the Council would allow him to continue as her Master. He set a poor example and encouraged heresy. 

Anakin slumped down until he found himself sitting on the floor, forehead resting on his knee. His breathing was coming in a harsh staccato but he could barely feel it.

He wouldn't be a Jedi after he was cured. He'd be expelled from the Order, a civilian left to watch the holonews as Jedi after Jedi died. Ahsoka would die, he thought with certainty. Obi-Wan would die.

Because he was a selfish fool who wanted too much, who couldn't be cured because the problem was never the drug to begin with.

"Oh," Obi-Wan said quietly.

His surprise rippled in the Force. Anakin let it pass over him, uninterested, and heard Padme walk to Obi-Wan's side.

"There has to be something else," Padme said.

"If you have found another cure, then I await enlightenment."

Silence fraught with tension fell between them and then Padme spoke again, voice almost too quiet for Anakin to hear, "Are you willing?"

Anakin frowned. Excitement prickled at him, blood running hot once more, but Obi-Wan felt dour and displeased in the Force. It was almost as effective as any cold shower.

"My willingness is not at issue. Merely the … consequences."

"It's more than just Anakin," Padme challenged him. "You heard everything Ventress said, the same as I did."

"Yes, I do seem to recall something about destroying the Jedi Order," he snapped.

Anakin recalled that vaguely. Something absolutely awful Ventress had said about Ahsoka when he was trying to heal Obi-Wan, trying to use the Force and focus on anything other than how desperately he wanted to be with both Padme and Obi-Wan.

"You'll do it."

Obi-Wan grumbled something. Anakin could feel his reluctance. It ran bone deep, cutting at Anakin himself and he flinched away mentally. Saving him wasn't worth it. He was perfectly aware of that already, thank you.

Padme had no more to say and left Obi-Wan to walk to Anakin, kneeling down next to him. Her hand was a cool balm on his forehead. He felt no less miserable when he opened his eyes – and felt ashamed for it. He had Padme. He loved her and she loved him in return. He wanted that to be enough.

Her brown eyes were bright with concern, though anger still lined her face.

"We have something," she told him. She took him by the arm, urging him to stand with her, which he did only grudgingly. "We just need to get out of here."

"I love you," he said. He hated the plaintive note in his voice.

Padme smiled and took his hand, lifting it to her mouth to kiss it.

"And I love you. We're going to fix this, Ani."

Anakin nodded along with the lie. He knew full well there was no fixing him.


	12. Chapter 12

"I have had enough of you!" Anakin shouted, punctuating every word with another blow. Obi-Wan found himself whistling low, impressed, as Anakin pivoted into an extremely effective spin kick to knock a battle droid clear across the hangar. Anakin had certainly mastered the art of channeling sexual frustration into violence, that was for sure. Anakin caught wind of the thought and glowered in Obi-Wan's direction even as he pushed out with the Force, knocking the remaining droids off the landing plank of the ship. "Well? Let's get out of here."

Padme nodded to him, rushing past Obi-Wan to the cockpit. He did his own part closing his eyes, casting his senses outward for the force field generator keeping the hangar sealed. He smiled to himself as he found it and, with a twitch of his fingers, broke the power coupling clean apart. Air rushed out the hangar and their own small Naboo yacht, rustling his robes as it whipped past.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, catching Anakin's as he gestured again, this time to close the ship door.

Anakin glared in response, expression tight and unpleasant. He looked almost as if he was going to shoulder his way past to join Padme in the cockpit, but then he hesitated. He knew as well as Obi-Wan that any physical contact at all between them, rough or tender, was not likely to end there.

In fact, the mere thought lingered on the bond he couldn't bear to close down, like kindling lay across already smoldering embers.

He wouldn't mind if Anakin were rough. The feeling, he knew, was mutual.

"We have made it this far," he said, voice ringing against the metal walls of the small passenger cabin.

The ship moved around them, lurching under Padme's distracted guidance. She was as much a part of this as Anakin and Obi-Wan, wound into their Force bond through Anakin's ill-advised meddling.

Anakin grunted out a response and ran his hand through his hair for the hundredth time, reaching for peace that would not come. He deliberately turned away from Obi-Wan – a gesture Obi-Wan couldn't not begrudge him and was shamefully grateful for.

The past hour had been interesting, he had to say that. Awful was another word for it.

After destroying as much of Ventress's lab and research as they could, they'd begun to make their escape. Loathe to let Anakin off on his own in his condition, yet no more willing to trust either himself alone in Anakin's company nor Padme, the three had worked their way down the decks in an increasingly angry mess of limbs, continually tripping over each other and snapping at each other. They'd needed to find the controls to the tractor beam and sabotage them, a process both wearing and wearisome.

The cure loomed large in Obi-Wan's mind the entire time, though he did set some time aside for monitoring Ventress in the Force, assuring himself she was out like a light. Padme's judgment regarding the the cure pressed on him as well, his Force bond with Anakin made uncomfortable by the intrusion of not only Anakin's mind – dizzy with the effect of the drug, sunk under a frightful wave of self-loathing – but of Padme's. Once they were back at the Temple, he would have to work with Anakin to keep more appropriate boundaries within their Force bond. For his own sanity as well as Anakin's continued health.

Because he swore if this kept up he would strangle Anakin himself.

Padme steered the ship out of the hangar bay as Obi-Wan watched Anakin. He could hear blaster fire zinging off the sides of the Naboo yacht, undoubtedly ruining its shining and perfect finish.

Obi-Wan thought Anakin would slump, exhausted or relieved to be in the serene dark of space and away from the scarring and scarred presence of Ventress, the block she created against the light in her very being. He could feel warmth returning to himself as they put distance between them and the ship – not merely the rush of desire provoked by the drug and coursing back to him across the Force bond he shared with Anakin. It was the simple joy of the Force itself, of who and what Anakin was, that treasured light that he didn't speak of, though he longed for it when they were apart.

Anakin did not relax, however. If he felt what Obi-Wan did, reciprocal relief in Obi-Wan's presence or recursively experiencing Obi-Wan's own feelings, it didn't show on his face.

He looked little less than a mad rancor, held back only because he didn't know how to expend the energy he still felt. His fists were clenched at his sides, shoulders tense and expression hard as he glared past the closed hatch, as if toward Ventress herself.

The yacht exited realspace smoothly, barely a hitch in the ride. Anakin's sense in the Force quieted for a moment, soothed by the odd feel of hyperspace that he had such an affinity for. Obi-Wan thought of all the missions he'd caught Anakin staring out the ports into the whorls of hyperspace, a meditation for a man who didn't often care to examine his own thoughts.

Obi-Wan studied Anakin's back, wishing that this alone would ease Anakin's mind. It was a coward's wish when he knew the true cure already.

"There," Obi-Wan said softly. "We're well away from the danger now, Anakin."

Anakin twitched his head to the side and he gave an unpleasant laugh.

"You are. You heard her."

When she said it was possible to die from the drug. Obi-Wan considered that unlikely, given what he'd read in Ventress's files and what she herself said of the drug's true purpose. To die a week after being dosed seemed short-sighted. She meant for it to be a contagion in the Force for Jedi across the galaxy. It needed time to spread, not a mere flashpoint that would burn itself out too quickly to be effective.

Obi-Wan took comfort in his respect for Ventress's abilities. She would not be so foolhardly as to unleash something like this if it killed so very quickly.

"I did," Obi-Wan said. "And I believe you heard us when we said there was a cure."

"We already knew that," Anakin snapped. 

"I –" Obi-Wan lost his train of thought entirely, words dying on his lips.

Anakin turned in place, hand clenched at his side. His hair was a wild halo around his head, eyes glittering with anger.

"You were cured, Master. Whatever it is, it didn't work on you. Or maybe it didn't work on me. I – we're too different and the point is that I'm just not the right kind of Jedi for Ventress's little game."

Obi-Wan exhaled as he steadied himself, standing straighter as he met Anakin's eyes. He anchored himself in calm. In times past, that would be enough to remonstrate Anakin, to demonstrate what he should be doing and simply wait for him to follow suit. The Force roiled around him now, torn by his emotions, and there would be no calm.

"You are correct, Anakin. You are not the kind of Jedi she intended this for at all. You see, a proper Jedi could never be cured at all."

Anakin frowned at him, trying to move past the sting of the admission and find meaning in his words, muddled as the drug had made him.

"You were cured," he said eventually, obstinately.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at Anakin and tilted his head. He did fear he'd have to concede the point: he hardly qualified as a proper Jedi either.

Anakin shook his head to rid himself of that thought, the whisper of it across their bond. Obi-Wan sighed. He'd not expected Anakin to accept it easily.

Padme joined them then, leaving the cockpit behind to pad quietly to the passenger area. She looked unkempt from their escape – though little worse than Obi-Wan himself, he was sure. Her hair was a tangle framing her face and her feet were reddened from running bare on the deck plates. He'd never found the time, or in honestly the inclination, to right his tunics after Anakin found reason to start undressing him in Ventress's lab.

She'd plainly heard the conversation up to that point, mouth pursed as she met Obi-Wan's gaze challengingly.

"You can say it," she told him.

Obi-Wan had not actually thought she'd be empathetic on this point, given that she'd gone and married his Padawan, in defiance of doctrine and, he was pretty sure, at least a few laws. She hadn't had any patience for Jedi reticence back in Ventress's lab either.

Padme gave Obi-Wan every opportunity to defend himself or explain the reason why, exactly, he could not say it, and then nodded to herself. It was a relief when she looked away.

"Anakin, the cure isn't what you think. Ventress said it herself, the drug is supposed to exploit existing Force bonds. But what you did instead made a new one," Padme circled her hand, gesturing to them all, "between the three of us."

Anakin scowled.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"It breaks the chain – or, in truth, forges a completely different one. She believed the bonds ran only from Master to Padawan, unbalanced and made cruel, made sick, by the drug. She intended for nothing to be mutual, we can all be clear on that, I think." Obi-Wan paused to share a look with Padme. Her sense in the Force had changed, no longer critical of him but supportive. He could barely admit to himself how much he appreciated it. "It's what you did, what you feel for me, that cured me Anakin.

"And now it's time we cured you."

"No, what you had is different. What I – I'm different, Obi-Wan. You already said it won't work. I'm just –"

Padme stepped forward quickly, cutting him off with a kiss. He grimaced at first and Obi-Wan could feel him resisting. And then, despite himself, he made a sound of longing, hand clutching at the back of her head to pull her in for a deeper kiss.

"It will work, Anakin. I can feel it in the Force," she said, lips against his. Her eyes opened to study his, hand on his neck holding him close. "I can feel it, because of what you did."

"Anakin, you must understand. The cure is not merely one thing. It is not – it is not the act, because acts do not shape the Force. It is the act and the emotion. It is the honesty of what we are to one another," Obi-Wan said. His voice wavered on his final words.

There was a part of him that felt this to be blasphemy. Perhaps because he wanted it so much.

Anakin closed his eyes, cheek pressed to Padme's. He ran his hand down her back, come to the burnt edge of her skirt before trailing it back up.

"And what are we?"

Obi-Wan swallowed deeply and steeled himself, reaching into their Force bond deliberately to show what he could not say. Not yet.

The images burned through him: Anakin stretched out under him, on his bed, the light of day caught in his eyes and his hair; Padme in a time and a place Obi-Wan had no recollection of, though the press of her warm skin against his was as familiar as any of his own lovers'; himself in an echo, a reflection, standing as Anakin knelt, smiling down at him with his hand in Anakin's hair.

"I – We're," he had to catch his breath, closing his eyes to complete the thought, "a closed circle, Anakin. The three of us."

"Is that what you want?"

Anakin's voice sounded ragged and frayed. He _felt_ wild.

Obi-Wan felt Padme part from Anakin, the shudder that ran through him and the twist in his gut like he'd lost her, and then she was slipping her hand into his. He opened his eyes to meet her speculative gaze. He felt her wariness blend with his own. That he trusted Padme Amidala with his life was not in question.

It was if he trusted her with Anakin's.

He could see the same question in her own eyes. They were a dissonant pair, Obi-Wan knew. When he thought of what she had done, marrying Anakin, he was too much the Jedi not to feel shock, even anger. Such a blatant violation and of a man she claimed to love, no less.

If she caught the thought, she gave no sign.

"Yes, Anakin," she said instead, still looking at Obi-Wan as if she could dissect his entire identity with a penetrating enough gaze.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged one shoulder, indifferent to his irritation. He supposed they would have considerable time to hash out their own personal issues, once this was resolved.

That thought Padme did hear and apparently she decided to take him up on the offer. She moved his hand to her hip as she leaned up to kiss him, questioning and curious more than passionate – at first. It took only a moment for Anakin's attention, his in-taken breath giving evidence of his interest as much as the Force, and then heat flashed across the Force bond like wild fire. Obi-Wan grasped Padme by her arms, pulling her in close as he deepened the kiss.

It was a long moment before they broke apart. Obi-Wan caught Anakin's dumbstruck expression from the corner of his eye and turned to face him.

"It is," he said.

"I – what was the question?"

"If this," Obi-Wan said, voice low as he walked toward his partner, "is what I want."

Padme looked between them both.

"What are we waiting for?"

That was enough to snap Anakin's remaining control. He took half a step forward and seized Padme by her hips, swinging her up into his arms before pressing her back to the closed hatch. There was durasteel between them and the violence of hyperspace, but it seemed a thin protection indeed, watching as they kissed. Padme wrapped her legs around Anakin's waist, back arching into the wall as she moved away from his kissing.

Her gaze was searing.

Obi-Wan came up behind Anakin. The Force crackled with leashed energy, as much from Anakin as himself. Hand flat on Anakin's back, he leaned in to kiss his neck. The sound Anakin made – Obi-Wan had to stop, forehead braced on Anakin's shoulder, palm pressed down hard against his cock. That would… that would not do. At all.

Her heard Padme's laughter, breathy and delighted and looked up to find her smiling, not entirely kindly.

Anakin moved against her and her eyes slammed shut, fingers flexing into his arms.

"How do –" she swallowed, words breaking off as Anakin got a hand under her skirt, "How do you want to do this?"

There was many possibilities, of course. He'd enjoyed several of them on the occasions where he had more than one partner, but the more exotic ideas fled him quickly.

There was a great simplicity to what he had with Anakin – what he wanted with him.

"Put her down," he told Anakin. Very, very grudgingly Anakin did so. He cast a look over his shoulder, doubt plain on his face. Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "And come here."

"Do I get a say in this?" Anakin complained.

Had he not complied, perhaps he would have.

However, Anakin followed Obi-Wan's orders without another thought. He stepped over to Obi-Wan, hands at his side, his eyes searching Obi-Wan's as he waited for instruction on what to do next. He wanted to grab Obi-Wan and strip him, kneel before him while Obi-Wan fucked him mouth. The image was vivid and viciously clear, ringing across the Force almost as an attack. But he remembered how Obi-Wan had rebuffed him on Ventress's ship and the wound of Obi-Wan's words to him on Courscant still lingered.

He needed for Obi-Wan to act first if he was to believe any of this was genuine.

Obi-Wan cocked his head to look at Padme over Anakin's shoulder. Her lips was parted, eyes glazed and far away. She'd seen precisely what Anakin had projected to Obi-Wan and, from the slight flush to her cheeks, it seemed she didn't disagree with the proposition quite so much as she had led Obi-Wan to believe.

"Help me to undress him, would you, Senator?" Obi-Wan asked pleasantly.

Padme's attention snapped back to him, perfectly composed and unashamed of her distraction, before she set to work. Her small hands wound around his waist from behind, opening Anakin's belt with ease. She dropped it to the deck floor and parted the layers of his tunics, exposing bare skin to her touch.

He moved in closer, Anakin's eyes on his right up until he ducked his head, kissing Anakin's neck.

The groan was all but ripped from Anakin, loud and low, carrying with it even ounce of restrained arousal that he'd pent up since Ventress captured them.

Obi-Wan hushed him, kissing down his chest as Padme stripped away his clothes, her hands stroking down Anakin's sides. She paused with one hand on Anakin's stomach and Obi-Wan could feel her delight at the quiver of Anakin's muscles. He kissed the skin between her fingers and then the back of her hand before finally lowering himself to his knees. He tugged on Anakin's boot until he raised his foot and allowed Obi-Wan to take it off, and then the other. Obi-Wan sat back on his heels, appreciating the position for a moment.

Anakin was staring at him in shock when he looked up. Padme stepped around Anakin, pressed to his side. She drew his head down for a quick kiss and then pushed Anakin's trousers down. He looked almost like he would stumble, fighting to get out of them hurriedly, but Padme caught him by the arms with a soft smile.

"No rush," she told him.

"Yeah, but –" he gestured down to Obi-Wan, eyes still wide.

Padme gave Obi-Wan a considering look.

"I see your point."

And she bent down to seize Obi-Wan firmly by the jaw before roughly positioning him in front of Anakin. She angled a look up at Anakin, smiling sweetly.

"Better?"

Anakin swore in a string of Huttese words that Obi-Wan had never heard before, not even during the worst battles. His cock had a somewhat more easy to parse reaction, twitching in front of Obi-Wan's nose.

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes up at Padme, whose hold on him had tightened if anything. He did not particularly mind the view, but he could not say that it was necessary in the least to have her hold him in place.

On the other hand, he did feel this had gone on quite long enough – or Anakin did, boundaries were fuzzy – and the best way to move out of her grip was simple to move. He took Anakin in hand, gripping the base of his cock firmly as he took it into his mouth.

Whatever control Anakin had in the Force was gone, completely shattered, and his emotions surged across their bond. Obi-Wan shuddered at the sudden blaze, hand already moving to touch himself.

"Obi-Wan," Padme said softly. He frowned, wanting to concentrate only on the feeling – Anakin's hand in his hair, the taste of him on his tongue, his own palm through his rough trousers. Her hand slid to touch his neck, slim fingers through hair damp with sweat. Her lips traced his ear. "Let me help."

And then he felt her hand slid into his trousers and groaned around Anakin's dick. 

He closed his eyes feeling nearly overwhelmed by the sensations combined. He didn't know why he'd denied himself the pleasure before now. Yes, on their first little sojourn, he tasted Anakin, but his memories of that were barely coherent. He remembered sweat and heat and pleasure, the feel of Anakin's skin under him and his presence around him. He didn't remember the feel of Anakin's thigh flexing under his hand and he held him in place, hard flesh in his mouth or the sound of Anakin coming as he sucked him down all the way.

Anakin's muscles tensed, hips held firmly still in his hands, as he came with a shout. He was panting when Obi-Wan pulled off of him, but Obi-Wan barely chanced to look up at him before Padme pulled him forcefully into a deep kiss. Her tongue pushed into his mouth and Obi-Wan smiled, aware of what she was doing.

Padme smiled and wiped the corner of her mouth when she finally pushed him away.

Anakin was wide eyed as he stared down at the two of them.

His erection had not gone down at all, nor had the arousal Obi-Wan could still feel from him in the Force. He leveled a glare at Padme.

"I feel you were remiss in your duties," he told her.

She glanced down at her hand and pointedly removed it from his person.

Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation. While he certainly did not appreciate that, it was beside the point. They'd said their piece, explained to Anakin what they'd become together, but those final words to seal it were of some difficulty to him.

He'd hoped she would be the one to relieve that burden.

He leaned in to kiss her, speaking in an undertone, "My dear, I have done my part. And well, I think."

Padme's nails dug into his neck as they kissed. She had absolutely no intention of making this easier for him.

Above them, Anakin choked off a sound. Padme put her hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders as she broke the kiss and looked up at her husband.

"You could join us," she offered.

Of course, the deck floor between the benches was neither spacious nor comfortable, but Anakin was past the point of caring. He all but threw himself down, pulling Padme into his lap and taking hold of Obi-Wan by the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss.

"Love you," Anakin said into the kiss.

Padme raised her eyebrows at him once he'd been released. Fine.

He cleared his throat and caught Anakin's eye – the other man looked woozy, pale under the sweat that plastered his hair down. Obi-Wan's heart skipped a beat at the sight and he reached out to push Anakin's hair out of his face, watching in fascination as Anakin turned with the touch, expression needy.

"I hope you know my regard for you is unwavering," Obi-Wan said haltingly. "Despite what I had said before."

"What you said?" Anakin asked. He pressed a kiss to Padme's neck before moving to her mouth. He sounded breathless and confused – in addition to being distracted.

Padme was no additional help, repositioning herself onto her knees and fussing with her underclothes so that she could guide Anakin into her. Her expression tightened, breath catching as she rocked her hips against him. She caught his face between her hands, looking down at him adoringly.

"I love you, Anakin," she said softly as she fucked him. "I want to spend my life with you."

The tension Obi-Wan felt in the Force, not merely sexual but nearly existential, was beginning to ease for Anakin. Obi-Wan tentatively added his own support to Padme's words, enveloping her and Anakin with his reassurance. It was true, he sent. He would not bar this. He would not take it from Anakin.

"Good," Anakin said. He pulled back and met Obi-Wan's eyes, gaze clear and cognizant for the first time in hours. He still thrummed with that energy and desire brought on by Ventress's drug, but thought had broken through, calmed him. He looked back at Padme, smiling at her. His nose nudged against hers as he kissed her. "That's exactly why I married you."

Obi-Wan hesitated. He could feel Anakin pulling at him, trying to draw him into this. He'd already taken the first step himself, offered conciliation, but it was hardly what the cure demanded. He could feel the sharp prickle of Padme's judgment in the Force – coursing along her bond to Anakin and then to Obi-Wan. There was a mild tingle of curiosity for Anakin, but he dismissed it. He briefly lifted Padme off of him, repositioning her on the passenger bench before entering her again.

Padme arched her neck, gasping at the feeling as Anakin applied himself, leaning her back to thrust hard. Her hands wound into his hair, but her eyes locked onto Obi-Wan's.

Stiffly, he nodded.

"Anakin," he whispered.

He trailed one hand down Anakin's naked, sweaty back, stilling his motions temporarily, and then kissed the back of his neck. Anakin moaned loudly, a flurry of images pushing at Obi-Wan in the Force. Ventress's ship, Obi-Wan's mouth on Anakin, his kiss and his cock as he fucked Anakin for his own relief.

Obi-Wan shut he eyes as he struggled to push away the memories.

"I, uh, came prepared," Anakin offered up. He shrugged slightly against Padme and then kissed her beseechingly. "If it's okay?"

She grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulling him back in for a rough kiss – the sensation of which Anakin relayed over to Obi-Wan. He heaved out a shaky breath, fingers at his own lips as he felt Padme bite.

He struggled to recall ever being this hard in his life. His dick throbbed, heavy in his own hand.

"It's okay. As long as Obi-Wan fulfills his promise to me."

Anakin didn't question her words. If anything, he seemed pleased that Obi-Wan and Padme had their own agreement, even if he wasn't aware of the terms.

Cure Anakin, regardless of the cost to Obi-Wan. Tell the truth to the Council, damn the consequences. Obi-Wan knew that he and Padme both faced tribulations once they revealed their feelings, but there was far too much as stake. Ventress's weapon could not be handily faced by other Jedi if they were left in the dark.

With distracted hand gestures and in between vigorously fucking his wife, Anakin managed to direct Obi-Wan to the bag he'd thoughtfully brought along with the ship's supplies. Hopes sprang eternal, Obi-Wan supposed, regardless of how he'd actually left things with Anakin back on Coruscant. And, admittedly, the drug had likely addled his thought processes somewhat.

Slick and more than ready, Obi-Wan returned to Anakin and Padme. He met Padme's demanding gaze as he pressed one hand to Anakin's shoulder, pushing slowly into the other man as he shuddered beneath him.

"Do you want to know how good you feel?" Obi-Wan asked. He braced his hand on Anakin's hip to fuck him, groaning at the tight, hot feeling – the sheer strength of the muscles underneath him as Anakin flexed and arched.

"I – yes."

Obi-Wan kissed the back of his neck and wound his Force sense with Anakin's, with the edges of Padme that Anakin had drawn in, against all sanity and good sense. He could feel Anakin's body as well as his own, the tight clench of Anakin and of Padme, the way her leg hooked over her hip and he breasts brushed his chest as he thrust into her, his beard scratching the back of his neck.

"I –" Obi-Wan broke off, panting as he and Anakin worked in rhythm with her other, without a second thought or a single hesitation. His eyes were wet. Ridiculous. He swiped a hand over them. "I love you."

He felt Anakin stop moving and Padme's fingernails dug into his back, a sharp, thrilling pain Obi-Wan relished.

"But you said..."

"I said I love you, Anakin," Obi-Wan snapped in irritation. He didn't think what he'd said before was really the point, honestly.

"You love me?"

Padme thought it was funny. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, looking around Anakin to glare at her. She smiled and Obi-Wan had to catch his breath at the side. Her hair was askew, face reddened with a delightful flush that trailed down to her breasts. She quivered with anticipation, near enough to her orgasm that Obi-Wan nearly came himself as her arousal burned through his veins.

"We do," Padme said to Anakin. Her gaze was tender, her mouth perfectly red as she gasped under him, expression tightening as Anakin began to thrust once more into her. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes squeezed shut as she came under him. "We love you, Ani, both of us."

It was what Anakin needed to hear. Moreover, it was the truth.

Obi-Wan nodded wordlessly. Padme's orgasm as a hot jolt washed over him in the Force, making his breath stutter in his chest. She arched against Anakin, knee brushing Obi-Wan's side as she pulled Anakin in closer. He stiffened under Obi-Wan – orgasm snapping in the Force, cutting through all the violent haze of Ventress's drug.

Padme gasped aloud at the feeling and Obi-Wan struggled not to push it away, not to fight it. He nuzzled the back of Anakin's neck, reaching for the earthly and wonderful present. 

He could feel it, what it felt like for them, all the heat and press of skin that made Obi-Wan ache for his own release.

They'd not done that, not yet. He didn't know what it felt like to have Anakin inside him. He sent a quick burst of gratitude to Padme – speaking the words for him that were so difficult to say, sharing her experience and feelings with him.

He'd have to do the same for her later, he resolved. There was a stunning array of possibilities and he found himself tugging Anakin's head to the side, leaning in for a deep, hot and breathless kiss with Padme as he fucked Anakin.

Obi-Wan pulled back, catching just the edge of Anakin's smile. His hand found Anakin's on the bench cushion as he felt himself coming apart, thrusting one last, hard stroke before he slumped against Anakin's back.

"Forever?"

Obi-Wan had entirely lost the thread of the conversation, such as it was. They'd been saying something at some point. He kissed Anakin's shoulder and patted his ass with a newfound fondness as he pulled out of him. Anakin chuffed out a laugh at the gesture, followed by Padme, eyes sparkling when they met Obi-Wan's. Their lighthearted laughter brightened the Force. Where there had been tension and nearly blinding desire, now instead there was simple enjoyment and comfort.

Wobbly legged, Obi-Wan tugged Anakin onto the bench and slouched against him. He was a mess. A filthy, sexy mess.

But there was a smile on his face. His hair was adorably tousled and the light in his blue eyes was beautiful. Obi-Wan frowned forcefully until the constriction in his heart eased.

He loved Anakin and he'd admitted as much but that didn't mean he was going to _moon_ over him. Not even now.

Padme laughed lightly as Anakin shook his head; he'd shared the thought with her. Obi-Wan would have to get used to that.

She pillowed her head on Anakin's shoulder and reach her arm past him to take Obi-Wan's. She was perhaps an even greater wreck than Anakin. If there'd been any hope at all of repurposing that dress, it was entirely lost now, stained as it was. She half-heartedly hitched her bodice back up, though not enough to cover her breasts, sighing contentedly into Anakin. Obi-Wan cast a look down at his trousers, pooled around his ankles, and settled for kicking them off entirely rather than attempting to right himself. Only Anakin's clothes had come out of this intact, having been fully removed and thrown to the side. Somehow, that stuck Obi-Wan as mildly unfair.

Anakin, of course, had not forgotten what they were talking about. He raised the question again, slight uncertainty in his voice.

"Is this … this isn't just for the cure – by the way, thanks for warning me – but it's..." He licked his lips uncertainly as he looked between them. "It's real, right? It's forever?"

Obi-Wan was rationally aware that nothing was forever. Leaving aside theology, he could not promise anything, not the steadfastness of his affection nor the course of their lives. He and Padme had a great deal to work through personally, though they had come to some accord. It would be impulsive, foolish, and shortsighted to give Anakin the answer he desired so obviously and deeply.

He knew that. Rationally.

But he was looking into Anakin's eyes right now and only one word came to his lips: "Yes."

Anakin snuggled down between them happily.

"Good." He snagged Obi-Wan for a quick kiss. "I love you, Master. Always have. And Padme..."

She perked up and he smiled at her, fingers stroking down her neck. His thumb brush the line of her jaw.

"First and forever, my love. I'd do anything for you. Die for you. Kill for you..."

"Please stop talking," Padme told him affectionately.

Anakin grinned. It was certainly somewhat easier for him to do than anything else on that list, Obi-Wan acknowledged.

"So," Anakin said after a beat. "Who's telling the Council?"

And both of their gazes turned toward Obi-Wan. He glared back at them.

"We do it together," he pronounced, "or not at all."

Which, he reflected later, was a fine way for them to live their lives.


End file.
